


Bittersweet and Strange

by crashingintothesun



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Beauty and the Beast AU, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Pining, aka Percy, aka one pretty boy, all the fun stuff, lots of Monty not knowing how to talk to pretty boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:10:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashingintothesun/pseuds/crashingintothesun
Summary: The first petal fell on the tenth year to the date of his curse.Prince Henry "Monty" Montague was cursed, having been doomed to live forever at eighteen, to remain frozen right on the cusp of life. Shunned and forgotten by the villagers, he spent his days hidden away. The enchantress had warned that the only way for the spell to be broken was to learn to truly love another and earn their love in return, having until the last petal of his enchanted rose fell or he'd be damned as a beast for all time.He'd given up hope of being freed long ago, for nobody even knew that his castle was still standing, hidden deep in the decrepit woods, it’s only inhabitants being the wolves and their prey. The likelihood of anybody crossing it’s path and living to tell the tale was slim. The likelihood of anyone stumbling across Monty and looking past his monstrous figure to see the broken man inside was even slimmer.Who could ever learn to love a beast?





	1. Prologue

Echoes of the maestro’s crescendo reverberated throughout the King’s Palace. It was a night like no other for tonight, the Prince was celebrating his eighteenth birthday. Gone were the days of sneaking over the palace walls, hanging around the villages with commoners, only to return the next morning with wrinkled clothes and breath faintly smelling of cheap spirits. The Prince was notorious throughout the land for tossing all his princely duties to the side for a glimpse of fun. However, on his eighteenth birthday, it was to be arranged that Prince Henry Montague was to formally begin his training for ascending the throne to become King. Lessons were to start early the next morning on proper governance and maintaining positive relations between the royal family and the commoners of their small English kingdom. The Prince could not think of a worse fate than the one which awaited him after the rising sun.  

His parents, the esteemed King Henry Montague especially, were well loved throughout their kingdom. However, they did not hold as high hopes for their wayward son. From early on in his behavioral lessons and schooling as a child, Henry, or Monty as he preferred to be called, was always difficult to rein in. He displayed nothing but utter disregard for his position and the consequences of his poorly thought out actions. To their dismay, as Monty grew to be a young adult, his actions only grew worse. Scandal followed his name in each conversation and his reputation was beginning to precede him: a sexually deviant prince whose vices held greater importance than his royal duties. Monty couldn’t bring himself to give less of a damn about his reputation. 

“Your highness?” The voice of Monty’s lord-in-waiting interrupted his concentration as he peered into the mirror, giving himself a once over before his ‘fashionably late’ appearance at the party- as per his usual style. He didn’t even spare a glance back, his own eyes never leaving his reflection. “The King and Queen are demanding your presence at once.” 

“You can tell the  _ King and Queen _ ,” Monty started, his voice dripping in mockery, hating having to reference his parents in such a formal manner. “That it is my celebration and I will join when I quite feel like it.” Once pleased with his flawless appearance, he turned to give his lord-in-waiting a once over. 

“You know, you are quite dashing, Richard. It’s a shame that it would be too low for even me to mess around with the help.” With those sharp words, Monty pushed past a red faced Richard, following the music through the halls before stepping into the grand ballroom, visibly announcing his arrival. 

Monty knew that his father would not cause a scene in the public eye, so as he gazed across the ballroom, he knew that the swarms of people dancing and milling about where his only protection against the lethal look his father was sending him. If anybody asked, Monty would make it a point that he was most certainly not scared of his father, except he most certainly was. He visibly flinched when he caught his father’s gaze, his cheek already stinging with the ghosts of past beatings serving as a reminder of what was to come that night. His mother was nowhere to be seen, and he assumed that she had gone up to see his younger sister to bed for the night. 

After Monty had been born, his parents had tried to have another child, preferably another heir for their throne in case Monty rendered himself incapable (which he was undoubtedly attempting to do). However, after multiple unfortunate miscarriages throughout the years, it had been almost fifteen years before the Montagues were blessed with another child- a little girl named Felicity. Now at almost three years old, the King and Queen doted on her, loving her as if she were their only child. It was no question as to where their devotion towards their children laid. 

As Monty made his way through the sea of people, most of whom were only in attendance out of relations to his parents, he found himself being pulled aside by a strong grip wrapped around his arm. Without protest, he allowed himself to be dragged through the crowd, finding himself being pressed up against the wall by an attractive, and vaguely familiar, young lad with short blonde curls and the brightest blue eyes one had ever seen. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he spoke, his voice washed out by the music to everyone but Monty and himself. He looked at the Prince earnestly and Monty honestly could not remember this man’s name. Then, his relation to this almost-stranger hit him: a memory flashed through his mind of a drunken night in a tavern spent with this boy in his lap. Monty had spent the evening whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he agreed to be taken around the back, letting Monty have his way with him. By the next morning, Monty had been keeled over in bed with a violent hangover and little memory of what had transpired a few hours earlier. 

“Hello, darling,” Monty greeted warmly. “How have you been?” The boy flushed under his gaze. 

“I’ve been well. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, though.” 

“From what little I remember, I can imagine why. You were definitely one of my favorites.”  

“I’m sorry?” The boy took a step back. “ _ One _ of your favorites?”

“Well, yes. You honestly couldn’t have thought that you were the only boy I’ve, how should I say this,  _ encountered _ .” 

“That was...you were my first,” the boy whispered, hurt flashing in his eyes. “The things you told me that night- you said I was special, Monty.” 

“That’s ‘Your highness’ to you,” Monty corrected in a bored tone. His eyes flickered out to the crowd with an indifferent expression before looking back at the fellow in front of him. “And I’m truly sorry for any misconceptions. I honestly can’t remember all I said that night, but I’m sure it was similar to the others. You commoners all fall apart so easily at the promise of meaning something to someone. It was really all too easy, darling.”

The boy looked at Monty the way that Monty looked at his father after one of their ‘talks’, his body deflated and eyes wet with unshed tears. 

“You’re going to hell,  _ Your highness. _ ” The words spit out venomously and with that, the boy turned away. Monty could barely make out his curls as they blended back in with the crowd. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of his other rendezvouses being in the room, waiting to confront him. Instead, he grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the passing butlers before downing it in one sip. 

_ What an absolutely shitty party,  _ Monty thought.  _ Happy fucking birthday to me, indeed. _

Suddenly, there rang out a loud commotion. The doors to the entrance of the castle flung open with a gust of wind, exposing an astounding storm raging outside. With a flash of lightning, the figure of an old hag appeared, as if out of nowhere. The room went silent, the lively music dying down and it felt as if the only sound were the nervous beatings of the guests’ hearts. Monty stepped forward towards the door as the figure approached.

“State your business!” he demanded. Slowly, she staggered her way towards Monty, revealing her repulsive appearance. Monty did not bother to hide his disgust. 

“State your business,” he repeated harshly. He felt brave under the eyes of those who came to celebrate him. 

“Please, your highness, I’m in need of shelter from the storm.” 

Monty scoffed. “You honestly think that you could come into  _ my _ palace and request shelter? You’re nothing but a filthy hag,” he spat out. “You’ve nothing to offer me.” 

“I have but a rose to offer you, Your Highness,” she replied, reaching into her tattered cloak and revealing a single red rose. 

“A rose? You’d honestly think I’d let someone as revolting as you tarnish my household for a  _ rose _ ?” He turned and looked at his guests before laughing loudly. They all soon joined in. Monty then turned his attention back to the sickly lady. “You’ve no place here.” 

“You are cruel,” she spoke up. “You are arrogant and selfish and far too easily swayed by appearances.” She lifted her fragile, bony hands to her hood, pushing it from her head.

A warm glow began to emanate from within her, and her dastardly appearance morphed into that of a beautiful enchantress. From behind Monty, there were nothing but screams as the guests saw what was taking place. Chaos broke out in the ballroom as they began pushing into each other, escaping from the castle in a hurry. Nobody stayed behind, not even the King; he had run to warn his wife and her maidens to take Felicity and leave. The castle was no longer safe for their cherished daughter.  

When Monty took in the full splendor of the enchantress, he fell to his knees, his forehead pressed against the marble floor. “Please, forgive me,” he begged. 

“My dear child, I cannot forgive you for you truly have no love in your heart.” She aimed the single red rose towards Monty’s bowing figure on the ground.

Burning. 

Nothing but burning could be felt as he lifted his head and watched in stupefied horror as his fingers sprouted claws and his skin was replaced by coarse fur. Agony ripped throughout his body as Monty screamed out, his body thrashing against the ground. Nobody came to his rescue; he was all alone as his figure transformed from a beautifully petit prince to that of a grotesque beast. As the excruciating pain subsided, Monty stood up, finding himself towering over the enchantress, surely at least two feet taller than his human form. 

_ “What have you done?!”  _ he bellowed loudly, shaking the window panes in their holdings. 

“You have shown nothing but disdain for those lower than you. You are cold-blooded and lacking love. I offer this rose as a gift. It will bloom for ten ageless years; once the last petal falls, you are to remain a beast for all eternity.” She reached forward and gently placed it in his palm. 

“How do I turn back?” Monty demanded. The enchantress remained silent, turning her back towards Monty. “You can’t leave me like this!”

Without turning to face him, she spoke one last time. “For the curse to be broken, you must learn to love someone and earn their love in return.” 

“How the  _ fuck  _ am I supposed to do that?  _ Look at me! _ ” 

But it was too late for she had left. The booming of the closing doors sent echoes throughout the abandoned castle. Monty looked down in disgust at the rose clenched tightly in his paw. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he looked up, the full realization of what had happened sinking in. 

His parents had abandoned him. 

His staff had abandoned him. 

He was absolutely, utterly, alone. 

And damned for all eternity as a monster.

As the years went on, throughout the kingdom, accounts of what transpired that fateful night turned into nothing more than folklore as the few commoners who were in attendance had fled the kingdom in fear. Nobody ever knew the full extent as to what had become of the Montagues. After fleeing the castle that night, the King and Queen had been overcome with fear. They did not know if that party had been an unfortunate, but chance, encounter, or if their family had been targeted by a vengeful sorceress, so they feared that one day the enchantress could return for Felicity. Not wanting to endanger her by raising her as a royal, for surely that would draw attention if the enchantress were to return for their youngest child, they had left her on the doorstep of a quaint cottage in a small village on the outskirts of their kingdom. The intention was for Felicity to be raised as a normal girl, no longer associated with the name Montague. They feared that the name now carried a curse. With a heavy heart, and a desire to protect their child from whatever misfortune had found its way onto them, they said their goodbyes to their precious daughter before heading out into the cover of the night, never to be seen or heard from again.  

 

Each day felt like an eternity passing. Each ticking of the clock symbolized yet another second of his freedom slipping away. Over the past decade left all alone in his hideous form with nothing to keep him company but memories of his past life, Monty fell into a great depression. Rooms of the castle fell prey to cobwebs and dust, now completely unrecognizable underneath the layers of grime. He often reminisced of days when he would play out in the gardens, not a care in the world. But somewhere along the way he had traded days in the gardens to nights in taverns with beautiful boys and girls. His father had always warned him that his perversions would catch up to him, and each time Monty caught a glimpse of himself he was forced to face the harsh reality of those words. He had smashed all the mirrors in the castle by the seventh year. By the next year, there were no reflective surfaces to be found on the premises.

The first petal fell on the tenth year to the date of his curse. 

Monty felt a piece of his soul hollow out as he watched it detach from the rose and float to the bottom of it’s glass casing, it’s vibrant red hue fading to grey as it crumbled to dust. He collapsed onto his bed and averted his gaze from where the rose perched in its case. He would’ve been twenty-eight today. Instead, he’d been doomed to live forever at eighteen, to remain frozen right on the cusp of life. He’d given up hope long ago of the curse being broken. Nobody even knew that his castle was still standing, hidden deep in the decrepit woods, it’s only inhabitants being the wolves and their prey. The likelihood of anybody crossing it’s path and living to tell the tale was slim. The likelihood of anyone stumbling across Monty and looking past his monstrous figure to see the broken man inside was even slimmer. 

Who could ever learn to love a beast? 


	2. The Castle

The soft rays of light shining down through his window caused an unfortunate early awakening. Percy wasn’t due to be in town for another hour. With a soft groan, he sat up in bed, running a hand through his unruly curls. He grabbed the ribbon laid across the floor to tie his hair back at the nape of his neck. It didn’t do much to contain the curls, but it certainly managed them a bit. It was a big day for him: his eighteenth birthday. He had finished his last days in school and was now ready to enter the world as a man, ready to find work and give his life here a purpose. Not many people in his village were willing to hire a black man- his uncle had warned him about that from early on. In fact, not many people in his village liked Percy at all. He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, but if what his uncle had said was true, then Percy was an outcast simply for his race. His uncle had told him that was a fact of life. Percy refused to submit to that mindset.

Despite the looks and murmurs that surrounded him as he wandered through town, Percy kept his head high and a book firmly in his grasp. He never left home without one. The idea that there were countless other worlds out there beyond his small town gave him hope, but most importantly, it gave him an escape. In these books, people were not ostracized for petty reasons. They were heroes and philosophers and knights and romancers, never being reduced to their color or sex. These books ignited an indescribable desire to travel that pumped through his veins like blood, driving him to learn all that he could. He hoped one day to gather the intelligence and skills necessary to leave and make something of his life. But the people in his town didn’t understand that about him either; they seemed happy in their routine, placated by the simplicity of life.

Percy longed for someone to understand him, for someone to accept him. He imagined what it would be like if he actually found a companion like that. Despite his better judgement, he found himself wishing for a prince to swoop in and take him away, like the ones he’s read about; then they would spend their days exploring the world and each other’s hearts. He knew it was foolish to dream about a man like that. Men who liked other men in this town were few and far between, and none had caught Percy’s heart or mind.

“Well if it isn’t the little bastard,” someone sneered to him as Percy walked by.

“Why don’t you fuck off?” A faint smile spread across Percy’s face as he recognized the familiar voice of his only actual friend, calling out in his defense. He turned to see Felicity running to catch up to him, her dress bunched up in her hand, exposing her legs in a manner which she had been scolded for countless times before.

“Does that guy always have to be so obnoxious?” she asked.

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?” Percy countered. “Haven’t you heard that’s not ladylike?”

They both broke out in laughter. For as long as Percy had known her, Felicity had never been one to follow the guidelines for what it meant to be a lady. Though she was quite a few years younger than him, Percy had connected with her instantly. They were both the outcasts of town: him, living with his uncle after his father had run off after his mistress’s death while giving birth to his illegitimate son, and Felicity, being the orphan with no known origin and a girl with an insatiable desire to tinker and create. They had been thrust together by the social system of their village, an unfortunate circumstance which gave way to a beautiful friendship.

“Where are you off to?” she asked, her shorter legs having to work double time to keep up with Percy’s longer strides.

“To the bookshop.”

“Isn’t that where you were headed yesterday?”

“Yes, but I finished my book.”

“Let me guess, Romeo and Juliet again?” she teased. Percy slid his hand further up to try and cover the title.

“So what if it is?”

“Still dreaming about your Romeo?”

“Technically, Romeo wasn’t a romantic. He was a simple-minded selfish child who thought of nobody but himself. He courted Rosaline, then left her as soon as his eye caught something better.”

“I sort of feel sorry for you, Perce. You  always make men out to be these shallow creatures, yet you still hold onto the idea that there’s a good one out there for you. Do you think it’s really possible?”

Percy let out a sigh as he stared straight ahead. “It’s hope, that’s all it is. And I know there’s someone out there, he’s just not...here.”

Out of nowhere, a third body joined their ranks: a tall, broad lad with pitch black hair and porcelain skin. Percy clenched his book tighter to his side as he stopped walking, turning to face him.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Perce, come on, don’t act like you’re not happy to see me,” the man spoke smoothly. He reached an arm out to rest on Percy’s shoulder, which he promptly shook off.   

“What do you want, Adam?” Percy asked, his tone icy and distant.

“I was just wondering where the most beautiful man in town was going. And then I realized that I was coming to see you,” Adam replied, flashing Percy a wide grin that read: _I’m so clever, I know. Please adore me._

“I was actually on my way somewhere-”

“Let me guess, to get another book?” Adam cut in.

“Yes, actually.”

Adam clicked his tongue and sighed at that. “Percy, a man as beautiful as yourself should only be interested in finding a husband- someone to take care of you. He shouldn’t be wasting his time with his nose stuck in a book. You know what happens when a person reads? They start forming their own ideas, thinking that they can do better than with what they’ve got right in front of them, but we all know that people like you aren’t destined for anything better-” Adam is cut short with a swift punch to his jaw. Although Felicity was merely thirteen, she could throw a punch to win a bar brawl.

“What the hell was that for?” Adam growled as he rubbed his throbbing jaw. “I was just trying to compliment him!”

“You want me to be with you?” Percy asked, his jaw tight as he spoke through angry, gritted teeth. “You think that I should just ‘accept’ my place and try not to make something of myself because you’re not used to _‘people like me’_ doing something better with their lives? Nothing would give me more displeasure than being in your company, let alone being your little _husband._ ” The word came out with such distaste that Percy almost wanted to spit after speaking it aloud.

As they walked away, Adam, still holding onto his jaw, shouted after them: “You’re making a huge mistake! Nobody wants you, Percy! Your own father didn’t even want you, but I do! You’re going to regret this!”

“I just hope he remembers to put ice on his face,” Felicity mumbled. “It’s going to leave a nasty bruise.”

“Good. It’ll warn everyone about the even nastier personality inside.”

Percy’s jaw didn’t unclench until he was safe in the confines of the bookshop, buried within stories of faraway places where happily ever afters existed and men weren’t entitled racists.

 

The trip back home from the bookshop was thankfully uneventful. Percy had accompanied Felicity back to her home, where she was finishing up the final pieces on her latest invention. She was to ride it out to a fair tomorrow, and Percy had assured her that she’d win first prize. When he walked through the door to his cottage, Percy reached up and untied the ribbon in his hair, letting it hang free around his face. He could hear the sound of his uncle padding around the kitchen, the smell of soup wafting through the air. This is what home was to him. It wasn’t waiting by the fire for some big, burly man to come home with the daily hunt’s kill, or whatever gross idealized future Adam had imagined for the two of them. The thought of their conversation still left a bitter taste in his mouth at the word _husband._ Percy couldn’t imagine a single scenario in which he’d ever agree to be the doting husband to such a pompous ass.

“How was town?” his uncle asked as Percy made his way into their kitchen.

Percy sighed. “It was the same as every day.” His uncle watched him with knowing eyes.

“I know you’re unhappy here, Perce, but right now we really can’t afford to leave.”

“I just feel so alone,” he admitted quietly, taking a seat at the table. He placed his new books in front of him. “I know I have Felicity and all, but I just… I don’t have anyone who understands me the way I need to be understood.” Felicity was still a child, after all. It wasn’t her fault.  

“What about that Adam fellow? He seems to like you.”

Percy scoffed and shook his head. “He likes the idea of me. He just wants someone to boost his ego and I’m not that guy. Plus he’s an insufferable racist.”

“It’s just the times, son. Things will change, I know it.”

Percy sighed once more and opened up one of his books. “The more you say that, the less I believe you.”

 

The next morning, Percy was awakened by frantic knocking on his door. When he opened it, he was faced with an excited Felicity.

“I figured I’d say goodbye before I headed out,” she explained. “That way you can wish me good luck.”

Percy let out a tired laugh at that, rubbing at his eyes. “You don’t need luck. You’re practically a genius.” He was met by a slightly pouting Felicity. “But good luck. I know you’ll blow everyone else away.”

“I’m still amazed they even let me enter in the first place, usually women aren’t allowed.”

“It just means you’re extra special. Now come here.” Percy pulled her in for a quick, tight hug. “Go kick ass.”

He leaned up against the doorframe as he watched Felicity mount her horse before riding away, the invention strapped to a wagon behind her. He always admired her tenacity. If anyone in their village were to make it out, Percy would bet all of his money on Felicity. At only thirteen she was more intelligent than half of the adults around, plus she was resourceful to no end. Percy once saw her stitch up her own leg after being cut when a contraption of hers went haywire. He didn’t even know she had a stitching kit around, but it turns out that sewing kits work just as well.

* * *

The sun moved slowly across the sky, creating a blistering heat that was almost too much for Felicity to bear. Thankfully, her path had led into the forest, keeping her under the shade of the trees. It was supposed to be a day’s journey to the fair, and with most of the day past, she had begun to feel uneasy as her horse took her deeper into the woods.

Her mother back at her home in the village advised against her going alone, but nobody had wished to accompany her. Felicity was never one to frighten easily, so she was adamant on standing her ground to travel. After putting up quite the fight, she had been given permission to go alone, if she agreed to focus more on her womanly duties upon arrival back at home. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

“Philippe, where are we?” Felicity asked her steed. The sun had fallen deep behind the trees, soon to disappear for the night. She wasn’t a naive girl; she was well aware of the wolves and other threats which loomed deep in the forest. “Where have you taken me?”

The path ahead was barely visible under the overgrown brush. From the faint light of her wagon’s lantern, Felicity could easily see that this was not a path used often, which meant only one thing: she was lost. The path she had intended to take would have been well-traveled, welcoming dozens of carriages daily from passing towns. The faint howl of wolves struck fear inside her as reality smacked her in the face. She would either have to run and look for shelter or she’d be dinner for the wolves. Without a second thought, she urged Philippe forward, charging down the unknown path, into an uncertain fate.

The terrain was unsteady and rough beyond comprehension. As they raced through the woods in an attempt to beat the sunset, a loud crack sounded from behind them. Felicity dared to look back and gasped when she saw the wagon had broken free after being snagged on an oversized root bulging from the earth. There was no time to go back for it, and the weight of it would only slow them down. She’d have to get over the loss later; being dead wouldn’t win her a first place prize. As she turned to face forward, she let out a startled scream as a wolf jumped into their path, baring its teeth with a hungry look in its eyes. She reacted on instinct, pulling Philippe to the side, off the path, and through the unmarked woods. It was a risk she had to take.

The sun set too quickly in the sky, leaving them with only the moonlight to guide their way. The wolves remained close on their tail, growing in numbers as the sky darkened and the woods thickened. Felicity’s hair had fallen out of her plaits, flying in front of her face and obstructing her view. She reached up with one hand to clear it out of her eyes when, suddenly, Philippe whinnied and rose up, causing Felicity to lose her grip and fly off. She landed on the ground with a hard _thump_. When she looked back up at what had startled Philippe, she was met face-to-face with a grand wrought iron gate rising high in front of her.

She pushed herself off the ground, ignoring the pain in her side, and ran up to the gates, calling out for help. The growls of the hungry wolves grew louder as they circled her and her horse, the gates refusing to budge. It wasn’t until one of the wolves pounced towards her that the gate creaked open. She rushed inside, Philippe running in behind her, and slammed it shut before the wolf could follow them in. Out of breath and in shock of her near death experience, Felicity plopped on the ground, her head buried in her hands as she tried to think of a way out of this predicament.

When she was able to get her breathing to calm down and her mind to think rationally, she stood up, brushing the dirt off her torn dress. That was when she saw it: a stone castle looming in the distance. She grabbed onto Philippe’s mane, gently leading him towards the only known source of shelter. As she approached the castle, an unnerving feeling crept inside of her. The towers, taller than anything she’d ever seen, soared far above her head. She could barely make out the eerie gargoyles perched on top as some sort of peculiar decoration.

“Stay here,” she ordered Philippe softly as they approached the stairs leading up to the entrance. She then carefully made her way up the stairs, pushing against the large iron doors, surprised when they gave way easily. Inside the castle, her face fell into one of utter shock. The entire place was in disarray; cobwebs hung down from the chandeliers and the paintings on the walls were ripped to shreds in their frames.

“What the hell?” she whispered to herself, accidentally tripping over an overturned chair as she moved from room to room. As she wandered through, a soft twinge of familiarity nagged inside her, but she couldn’t figure out as to why this place felt so familiar to her. A faint growl reverberated through the castle, causing her to jump and look around the foyer, wide eyed and ready to fight. Perhaps there were wolves here. Perhaps this was where she would die.

Suddenly, an enormous figure appeared at the top of the grand staircase, cloaked in darkness. She could faintly make out the shape of horns protruding from the head of whatever _it_ was.

 _“Who are you?!”_ it barked out in a thundering deep voice. _“What are you doing here?!”_

“Please, I’ve lost my way in the woods and I’m in need of shelter for the night,” she called out. Felicity carefully moved back until she felt the stiffness of the wall holding her up. The shadowed figure lept from the top of the staircase to the ground in one easy movement, the floor shaking a bit under her feet with the force. Her eyes followed it frantically.

“You’ve come for _shelter_ have you? Or have you come to stare at the Beast?” it sneered, not moving from its place at the base of the steps.

“No! I really need a place to stay!”

“Do you know what happened the last time a wench like you came to me, demanding I take pity on her?” The silhouette of the beastly figure took a step closer towards her shaking body. _“Do you?!”_

“Please!” Felicity was crying now, her voice breaking. “Don’t hurt me!”

“You trespass on _my_ property and demand that _I_ don’t hurt _you_? Is that right?”

“I didn’t mean to! I-I was being chased by wolves and-”

 _“Enough!”_ he roared, taking five more steps and closing the gap between them. In the faint light coming from the last flicker of torches mounted on the wall, Felicity finally got a look at what had been speaking to her. She gasped loudly when confronted with the Beast. His wild eyes looked ready to kill and from the size of his paws, he could crush her as if she were a mere twig.

“I knew it,” he sneered. “You _have_ come to stare at the Beast.”

Before she could protest, the Beast had one paw wrapped around her waist, hoisting her over his shoulder as if she were as light as a feather. She called out, crying for help, as he ascended the stairs, taking three at a time as he continued up the winding staircase of a tower. The last thing she heard before a cell door was slammed in her face was the faint sound of Philippe’s hooves against the ground and the rustic whine of the gates as they opened and shut. Felicity closed her teary eyes as she curled up against the wall, bringing her knees to her chest.

She began to silently pray.

* * *

The next morning, Percy was attending to his uncle’s garden when the sound of hooves against cobblestone grabbed his attention. His eyes widened in shock as Felicity’s horse rode up to their cottage.

“Philippe? What happened? Where’s Felicity?!” Percy asked frantically despite knowing that there would be no response. With panic pulsing in his veins and without a second thought, he hoisted himself up onto Philippe, grabbing onto his mane. 

“Take me to her,” he commanded, and Philippe took off, carrying Percy out through the village and into the woods, heading straight towards the castle. The morning sun meant the wolves would no longer be a threat to the journey, and when they passed the spot where Felicity’s wagon had broken free, Percy silently cursed himself for not offering to ride with her. If she was hurt he would never forgive himself. The castle loomed ominously in the distance but Percy rode on, forcing his fear deep inside. The only thing on his mind was rescuing Felicity.

The creaking of the gates signaled his arrival and as he rode Philippe up to the stairs, it was as if the entire exterior hardened in his presence. The gargoyles shifted into an attacking stance, their ugly faces turning into mean sneers and their eyes, Percy swore, moved as he made his way up to the iron doors. Judging by the benevolent aura the castle was exuding, he couldn’t bring himself to think about what had become of his friend trapped inside.

“Felicity?” Percy called out once inside. He looked down and saw small footprints etched in the dusty floor. He traced their path until the only prints he saw were not those of a young girl, but of some large animal. His eyes went wide as his head snapped up, looking directly at the staircase up which the prints continued. “Felicity!”

The only answer were his echoes.

As he ran up the stairs following the pawprints, the nervousness he had repressed during the journey here was creeping back up in the form of bile, but Percy would not allow himself to be sick at this moment. The determination to bring her back home motivated his body to push through as he found himself climbing up the stairs to a tower. The endless circling of the steps as they wound directly up was enough to nauseate him. His hand pressed against the wall tightly, guiding him along and holding him steady. Percy could see where the stairs ended, leading into a small room at the very top of the tower.

“Felicity?” he called out. Mustering up every last bit of energy he had, Percy turned the corner, finding himself standing alone in a darkened room, the only light peeking through the tiniest of windows high up on the wall. His eyes immediately traveled to the caged bars on his right, noticing Felicity’s figure hunched on the ground.

“Percy?!” She stood up quickly, moving to press herself against the door.

Percy ran to her, grabbing onto her hands as they wrapped around the bars. “You’re alive,” he breathed, relief flooding through him. “Come on, I’ve come to take you home.”

“I can’t. It’s got me trapped,” she whispered, her eyes darting to the staircase frantically.

“It?”

“It, he, I don’t know, Percy, but it’s got me, and I’m scared. I want to go home!” Her cheeks were stained with tears, old and new.

“I’ll get you out of here, okay? I promise.” Percy then began looking around for something- anything- to break the lock and free her.

A loud growl filled the room as the Beast made his presence known. His entire body filled the doorway, blocking their only chance of escape.

“Who are _you_?” it spat out, his eyes glowing with rage as they fixated on Percy.

“Who are you?” Percy questioned back, hardening his eyes as he glared right back. He assumed this must be whoever locked Felicity up, and Percy was not afraid to fight back.

“I’m the master of this castle.” The voice was low and rumbled throughout the confined space. The Beast sank down, skulking on all fours closer to where Percy was standing. He carefully kept himself out of the sunlight, coming as close as possible without being exposed. “And she is a trespasser.”

“She’s a child,” Percy snapped.

“Is that supposed to make me feel pity?” the Beast snarled.

“Are you so inhumane that you’d lock up a child for seeking shelter?”

“What would you suggest I do with her, then?”

Percy wondered if this creature was some sort of sadist, bargaining the punishment for his prisoner right in her presence.

“Let her go.”

“I won’t.”

“Then take me, instead.”

The words come out before Percy can realize what he’s said. As his mind internally screamed in protest, Percy breathed in deeply and kept a cool face. His offer seemed to come as a shock to this creature.

“What?”

“Take me. Let her go, and hold me prisoner instead.”

“You would...you would do that?”

Percy nodded slowly, willing away his forthcoming tears. “Yes.”

“No!” Felicity protested loudly, reaching through the bars and grabbing onto Percy’s shirt. “Perce, I won’t let you do this!”

Percy turned back to look at her, for what he assumed was the last time. “You have a whole life ahead of you that you deserve to live. I’ve got nothing for me back home.”

“But your uncle-”

“Tell him I love him, okay? Tell him that I’m safe. Whatever you do, please don’t worry him.”

“Percy, no!”

“Do I have your word?” The sharp tone cut through their final goodbyes.

Without turning around, Percy nodded silently. At that, the Beast moved forward, gripping the back of his shirt as he opened up the cell door. With one swift motion, Felicity was yanked from her spot as Percy was shoved in so forcefully that he was sent flying to the ground, his knees scuffing against the hard floor. Before he could stand up, the door swung shut behind him. The click of the lock signified the finality of his freedom.

“Percy!” Felicity’s shrill voice echoed back to him, but she was long gone, for the Beast had already begun his descent down the stairwell.

Standing in the cell, Percy felt outside of himself, unable to move while he partook as an outsider to the exchange on his life.

Minutes- or was it hours?- later (Percy was so beyond himself that he had no idea how much time had passed) that harrowing shadow appeared at the top of the steps again.

“You’re a fool.”

Percy didn’t reply, still staring blankly at the wall in front of him. The solitude he had felt in his tiny village was nothing compared to the absolute and complete isolation of the cell he would be occupying for the rest of his existence- and the remainder of his days was a newfound question in itself. It could be hours or it could be decades trapped inside these four walls.

“What, you’ve got nothing to say now that you’ve done your showing off? Congratulations, you played the hero and what did it get you in return? Nothing.”

“Shut up,” Percy whispered. “Please, just shut the hell up.”

“You’re a prisoner. You don’t get to make any orders around here.”

Percy let out a sorrowful sigh and squeezed his eyes shut. He began hoping and praying that this was some elaborate nightmare that he’d yet to wake from.

“Did she make it out safely?” he finally managed to ask.

“Oh yes. As soon as I disposed of her, she went running off. And I repeat: You’re a fool. She’ll never come back for you, you have my word on that. Once people abandon you here, they never return.”

“What are you?” Percy asked, reopening his eyes once he no longer felt the threat of tears. “I can see you’re not human.”

“I see you share the same curiosity as your little friend. Look where that got her.”

“Yes, but seeing as you’ve already locked me up, I pose no threat to you. What could I possibly do? As you’ve mentioned, I’m your prisoner.” Percy knew that he shouldn’t antagonize his captor, but what was there to lose? He’d already lost his freedom and his future, all in a matter of moments.

The Beast slowly began to move from the shadows towards the sliver of sunlight, revealing his true form. From inside the cell, Percy let out a shocked gasp. This...this _thing,_ covered from head to toe in fur, had horns and fangs so large they could make even the biggest grizzly bear hide in shame. But his eyes! They had no place being on this grotesque figure. Percy had merely caught a glimpse of their brilliance before, but those fleeting moments hadn’t done them any justice. They were as blue and clear as the seas described in Percy’s books, the sunlight exposing golden flecks dotting his irises. His eyes bewitched Percy, their beauty rendered him tongue-tied.

“Well well well, looks like the hero’s not so mouthy now, huh?” the Beast drawled out as he studied Percy’s reaction. He then crouched down so his face was mere centimeters away from Percy’s. Percy could feel his lungs burning with each hot, panicked breath, struggling to breath in the face of this monster.  

“What’s the matter, darling? I promise I won’t bite.”

* * *

Hours later, Monty found himself angrily pacing back and forth in his room, surrounded only by the tattered remains of the relics from his former life. With a roar and a simple swipe of his arm, he sent one of his bed posts soaring through the air with a _crack!_ He was now down to two.

There was a boy in his tower.

There was a stunningly beautiful boy _in his tower_ and he was still trapped in this hideous body.

He may be part animal, but he wasn’t blind. Percy was beautiful, in the softest of ways- like a flower freshly bloomed and dotted with the kiss of dew. Not even twenty four hours ago had Monty been starved of any human interaction, but now he’s had not one, but two, visitors to his long-forgotten domain. He’d be a fool to let himself believe this could be a sign of the times, that the universe had set in motion a course for the reversal of the curse.

No. He wouldn’t allow himself that hope.

But Monty still couldn’t shake the sliver of hope from his mind that the course of action had already been set into place, and the beautiful boy locked away in his tower would be the one to free him at last.

  


The next morning, Monty paced his room, fumbling over what to say once he managed to make his way back up the tower to see Percy. Being kept away from humans for so long had all but diminished his ability to communicate with others.

“Hello, did you have a nice night? Would you be interested in seeing your new room?”

_No. And of course he didn’t, you imbecile._

“I’m terribly sorry for locking you up. Here, have a suite to make up for it?”

_Even worse._

“Good morning, would you care for a better view?” Monty groaned, but the sound emitted with a low rumble, morphing his exasperation into a growl.

 _Since when did words become so difficult?_  

The thought of what to do with Percy had plagued Monty all night long, and he had not seen a moment of sleep because of it. His original anger and frustration at the intrusion to his home had dissipated as a longing for interaction settled in it’s place- one Monty had been repressing for years. It didn’t help that each thought of the handsome prisoner sent Monty’s heart racing. He had long forgotten what attraction felt like, having experienced nothing but pure repulsion for himself and the world for years. How lovely the soft flutter of his heart felt in contrast to the dull thrum which usually occupied his chest. If Percy were to fall in love with him and free him from the curse, Monty realized, it would mean that that he’d have to actually attempt to act decently. Locking him away in a tower was surely not the best method of achieving true love- even Monty and his emotional incompetence knew that.

Despite the idea plucking at the back of his head that the curse could soon be reversed, Percy _was_ first and foremost his prisoner, and in any given situation Monty was never one to be soft or allow for early releases, but the evening hours had been spent brainstorming ideas to make Percy’s stay more welcome and hospitable. As the sun had crept over the horizon, spilling light into the darkness which surrounded him, an idea had dawned on him for how to remedy his tricky situation.

When he turned the corner at the top of his tower, Monty’s eyes immediately trailed over to the cell where Percy laid curled up in a ball on the floor, presumably asleep judging by the way his chest was slowly rising and falling; it was nothing like the quick succession of panicked breath which had overtaken him yesterday. Monty almost felt bad to wake him. Almost.

He walked up to the door, getting as close as possible, before barking out, “Wake up!” He watched as Percy’s body jumped, his eyes flying open in fear as he instinctively scooted himself farther from the threat. “Stand up.”

Percy did as he was ordered, fear still rampant in his tired, puffy eyes. Monty assumed he had been crying all night and he didn’t know if that fact pleased or disgusted him more. He loved having power over people, yet the idea of someone being genuinely terrified of him? A twinge of remorse tugged at his heart. He quickly pushed that feeling deep inside, locking it away as to never let it resurface. Remorse implied weakness. Monty would not allow himself to be weak, not when he needed to display superiority.

“If you try and run, I _will_ catch you, and it will end poorly for both of us,” he warned as he placed his paw on the lock, ripping it off as easily. The door swung open, yet Percy remained cemented to his spot. “ _Come._ ” The order came out harsher than he intended, but Monty had never been one to put up with being made to wait, especially not by commoners.

“Where are you taking me?” Percy asked fearfully. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t deserve-”

“I’m taking you to your room.”

The prisoner looked up at him, his eyes no longer showing fear but confusion. “My room?”

“Well do you wish to stay locked in the tower?”

“No.” The reply was brash and immediate, and Monty found himself attempting to hide a smile that was threatening to show. The corner of his mouth curved up in an awkward twitch.

“Then follow me.”

As Monty guided Percy throughout the castle, an unsettling silence fell between them. Monty was mentally cursing himself for not being able to think of a single thing to say to Percy. Yes, the circumstances were subpar, but as a prince he had been gifted with a tongue so charming, it could steer him out of- or into- any situation he desired. Yet now he was a silent fool, and Monty wondered with dread if this were to be a continuous pattern for the rest of his days. There was no seduction in a tongue-tied silence. He wracked his mind for anything to say.

“The castle is your home now,” he finally spoke up, not looking back to see if Percy was paying him any mind. “You are free to go wherever, except the West Wing.”

“What’s in the West Wing?”

“Let’s put it simply: if you value your life, you will not enter the West Wing.” 

“I offered up myself for lifetime imprisonment to a monster, of course I don’t value my life.”

Monty halted at that, letting out a low growl as he turned around to face him. Percy looked up at him, his face cold and unreadable. “I am _not_ a monster. I will not tolerate that word in my presence, is that clear?”

“You’re dictating what I say? What’s to follow? I’m not allowed to think it, either? Because that sure as hell won’t stop me,” Percy snapped back defiantly. “You are a monster, and not just in regards to your appearance. You’re a heartless beast.”

“And you’re an insufferable commoner. Looks like we’re both as displeased with the other’s company. How excellent.”

 _Yes, Monty,_ he thought bitterly, _this is exactly the way to win his affections._  

Once they arrived at their desired destination, Monty pushed open the door, revealing Percy’s new bedchamber. Sure, it wasn’t as grand as the one Monty occupied in his forbidden wing, but the room alone was larger than Percy’s cottage back in the village. Percy stepped inside, taking in his surroundings. There was a bed fit for a King pushed against the far wall, draped in blue silk sheets hidden underneath a mountain of pillows so soft, Percy assumed they were made of only the finest feathers around. A large window faced the door on the opposite wall, showing off a view of the garden tucked away towards the back of the castle. At one point it had been luscious and luminous in color but now, it was overrun with weeds had been drained lifeless. Monty watched Percy’s reaction with a fascinated look, and for a second he forgot that he was supposed to be a prisoner, not some unforeseen guest.

“Will this do?” he asked softly, not moving from his place in the doorway.

“This is incredible!” Percy sat himself down on the bed, testing out the softness of the mattress. His face was alight with wonder, and warmth spread throughout Monty’s body knowing that he was the cause for this pseudo joy- well, indirectly the cause for it. It was the exquisite room causing Percy his moment of happiness, not Monty himself.

_Not yet. Maybe someday…_

“I only wish for your stay here to be as pleasant as possible,” Monty explained.

“Do you do this for all your prisoners?”

“No, you’re the only one for me,” Monty told him, catching himself watching Percy wistfully. He then coughed when he realized the implication that his words could have. “I mean, you’re the only prisoner I’ve ever took. Besides your friend, of course.”

Percy looked back over at him, unfazed by Monty’s nuance, catching his gaze. “Did you kill everyone else?”

The question was asked in earnest, and Monty’s eyes hardened into a killer glare, the iciness of it intended to chill Percy to the bone. “I told you I am not a monster.” Before Percy could open his mouth again, Monty stormed out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him. The chandelier hanging from Percy’s ceiling rattled in it’s place.

Back in his chambers, Monty walked over to the table on which the rose was perched. He gently placed a paw on the glass as he peered in with disgust. The rose was the true symbol of his damnation, yet riddled with loathing, he could never bring himself to turn away from its poisonous splendor. With one petal already fallen, Monty knew he had but a year left if he were to ever find love. It was all happening too soon, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could only accept his forthcoming doom and watch as the only possible cure despised him from afar. Not that Monty could blame him. He then turned away from the flower, and his eyes fell onto a single mirror discarded on the floor.

Years ago he had rid his castle of any item which reflected his beastly form, save for this mirror. This wasn’t a mirror one would use for self admiration, no, this was a gift from the enchantress, allowing Monty to view any person or thing he desired. He had used it only once, right after the curse, to see what had become of his parents. The image he got in return of his parents running from the castle- from him- sickened him to the core, and he never desired to use it’s power again. Except, now he had a reason to. Monty picked up the mirror and held it to his face, wincing as he caught a glimpse of his appearance. The only thing left to tie him to his past were his eyes; everything else about him was unrecognizable.

“Show me the boy,” he ordered. The mirror flashed to life before his eyes, the reflective surface soon giving way to the image of Percy in his room, standing by the window and looking out at what was left of the garden. He was all alone, yet his lips were moving in conversation with himself.

“Maybe I should give him a chance?” Percy was heard asking. He paused before shaking his head, his wild curls bouncing around his shoulders. “No. He can deny it all he wants, but I know what he is. He’ll end up killing me soon enough.”

He had heard enough. Monty let out a defeated sigh and resisted the urge boiling up inside him to hurl the mirror at the closest wall, placing it face-down next to the rose instead.

“I’m such a fool,” Monty muttered. “He’ll never see me as anything but a monster.”


	3. Something There

After her release from the castle the day before, Felicity had pushed on with Philippe, not stopping until she had arrived back home that night, her hair askew and dress all but torn to bits. She was welcomed by a scream of her name accompanied by a hug so tight Felicity felt all the breath leave her lungs. Before she had been able to get in a word about Percy’s entrapment, her mother had ushered her to bed in a panicked response to her physical state. Exhausted from the days and nights away from home, Felicity had not been able to muster the energy to put up much of a fight. Instead, she had easily complied to her mother’s wishes and slept soundly through the night and most of the next day, unaware of the changes made to Percy’s arrangement in the castle.

When she had woken, her muscles ached and her stomach growled so loudly it nearly frightened her, bringing back memories of the horrid beast which had held her captive. She had hoped it was only but a nightmare but to her dismay Percy was still gone, and without her help, he would be trapped forever. After a hot bath which had been drawn up by her still-worried mother and a large breakfast that was devoured in mere minutes, Felicity set off towards the one person she could count on with the strength for the backup she needed: Adam, Percy’s (most revolting) admirer.

The tavern, despite it being the middle of the day, was packed full as there was not much else to do in their quaint village. Thankfully, Felicity’s small stature allowed her to maneuver through the crowds almost undetected. It stank of sweat and beer and Felicity thanked god that she was still young enough to not be expected to be looking for a husband among this classless crew.

At the bar sat Adam, his brainless sidekick glued to the seat beside him hanging off of every word he said, practically swooning as if Adam himself was the one who hung the sun in the sky. Felicity couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Adam was a complete and utter douche and to willingly never leave his side out of blind adoration? Pathetic. She could deal with being looked down upon for her “hobby”, as some people labeled her inventions, but she could never be able to live with having her name forever alongside Adam’s.

When she pushed her way through the last cluster of drunkards, an audible gasp rang out through the air at her presence.

“Oh, if it isn’t a _little girl_ ,” someone sneered from behind her. “Did you get lost on the way to the shops, sweetheart?”

Laughter rang out amongst them. Without sparing a glance back, Felicity shot back: “You’re laughing now, but I’m the one who knows what your wives truly get up to while you drink away the day.”  

A large man stepped in front of her, his arms crossed across his chest as he glowered down at her. “This is not your place. Leave. Now.”

“I need to speak with Adam first,” she replied, unfazed by the size of the man. She had already dealt with much larger persons, well, just one in particular.

“He doesn’t associate with the likes of you.”

“Maybe if he listened to what I have to say he’d change his mind.”

“I doubt that, sweetheart.” Images of Felicity reaching up and strangling every last patronizing breath out of that man filled her head, and she found herself smiling cooly at the thought.

“Well, let him know that if he ever wants to see Percy again, he’ll come find me.”

She turned around, not even bothering to hide her smug look. She knew that would get his attention. There wasn’t anyone who he loved more than himself, but Percy was the man of his affections, so he came as a close second.

“Wait!” This time it was Adam who spoke up. Felicity slowly turned around, maintaining her cool glance. “What do you mean _if_ I ever want to see him again? Has something happened?”

“He’s being held captive,” Felicity informed him. She was all too aware of what would happen if she were to disclose any semblance of emotion; her words would be dismissed as nothing but an overreaction, so keeping her composure was of utmost importance despite every nerve in her body screaming: _Percy’s in trouble! We have to go_ **_now_ ** _!_

Adam stood up at that, instinctively reaching for his gun that was laid out across the bartop. “What are we waiting around here for, then? Where is he?!”

“He’s trapped in a castle. A monster has him locked up.” She understood how mad she must sound to them but she would not have come, asking for the assistance of the man Percy detested most, if it were not out of absolute necessity. She knew she was going against her better judgement by giving Adam the benefit of the doubt that he’d actually take heed and listen, but he was the only option she had.

Adam turned his head down to look at his right hand man, slowly lowering the gun back onto the bar, before breaking out into laughter, clearly no longer worried about Percy’s wellbeing. A chorus of laughter rang out behind her as well, as all eyes were on her.

“A monster has him locked up, is that right?” one man asked through bits of laughter. He reached up to wipe at his teary eyes.

“Yes!”

“Is he big and ugly?”

“Enormous! And far uglier than you, which is saying something.”

Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Adam staring down at her, a disappointed look on his face. “Oh, Felicity, he’s probably just run off somewhere. Isn’t that what he always dreamed of?”

She frowned and shoved his hand off of her. “You know nothing about his dreams. And I’m not making this up! He really is trapped! The monster took me, but then Percy came to my rescue and offered his life for mine.”

“Ah, see, I think he probably just got tired of you and your childish imagination,” Adam told her, his voice dripping in mock sympathy. “He left you and you don’t know how to cope. Unfortunately, this isn’t the right place for you to do that.” He then signaled for the large man to come back up to her, cracking his knuckles menacingly. Felicity took the hint and began to retreat back to the door. Before she left, she turned to get one last look at Adam, who was now back to being the center of attention, just how he wanted.

“I’m not crazy, you know! If you won’t help me, I’ll go after him myself and when I bring him back, you’re going to have to live with the fact that a little girl had more balls to stand up to a beast than all of you combined!” The sound of the door slamming signified her exit.

She was going to rescue Percy, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

* * *

 

Percy spent the day locked away in his room, not daring to leave it’s safe confines. He didn’t know what his captor was playing at, giving him his own chambers. He didn’t trust this creature at all. How dare he treat Percy in such a manner and then get upset when he called him a monster? His uncle would have advised him to do the right thing and give this beast a chance as he was always trying to see the best in each situation; Felicity would try and take him down herself.

_Oh, god. Felicity._

Percy had momentarily forgotten all about his friend. He wondered if she had arrived back to their village safely. Hopefully she had heeded his warning to lie to his uncle. Yes, perhaps it wasn’t the smartest decision to lie, but his uncle had so much more to worry about than him. Percy being gone would certainly cause him far less pain around the village. For every two insults fired towards Percy, his uncle sustained one himself for daring to take him in when he had nobody. If Percy were to be out of the way, he hoped that his uncle’s harassment would disappear as easily as he had.

However, as he gazed out the window of his room, he couldn’t help but wonder about the feasibility of escape. Surely he would be able to find some item in this castle which he could repurpose into a rope to assist in climbing down the wall because, of course, his captor had chosen a room which overlooked a vast drop. Surely this was no accident. There was no other means of escaping. Going through the front would be hopeless- the beast had already warned that if he ran, he could easily be caught. Plus, there were surely wolves roaming the perimeter of the castle grounds.

Hopeless. Everything was completely hopeless.

He sat on the windowsill, forehead pressed up against the glass as he glanced, unfocused, at the ground below. There was a loud, sudden knock on his door, causing his entire body to jump.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“Did you really just ask me that?” The unpleasantly familiar voice sent goosebumps up Percy’s body. In his moping about, he had briefly been able to forget about the monster lurking around. That voice served as a sickening reminder of his present state.

“Well how am I to know if you’re alone here?”

“You’ve seen what I am. Do you honestly think anyone would willingly join my company?”

“There could be other creatures like you roaming about, for all I know,” Percy shot back, his defiance supported by the protection provided by the locked door between them.

He heard a scoff at that. “Well, there isn’t. Now if you’re done moping about, would you... care to join me for dinner?” In that short pause, Percy could’ve sworn that it sounded as if his captor was stammering over his words, his voice wavering and giving way to nerves. He didn’t know why, but that angered him even more.

“You lock me away then have the audacity to ask me to dinner? Absolutely not!”

He heard a low growl in response, then muttered cursing, before: “Would you… _please…_ join me for dinner?”

Percy stood up off the sill, glaring at the door. “You think because you say please that I’m going to change my mind? You’re insane if you believe that I’d want _anything_ to do with you!” He knew it was dangerous to provoke him in such a manner, but Percy couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Fine! If you don’t eat with me, then you don’t eat at all. You can go ahead and starve.” His voice was like venom, seeping out into the air and sending Percy’s nerves afire. He could feel the poison running through his veins.  

“I’d rather starve than spend another second in your presence,” Percy snapped back, his words slicing through the air like knives.

There was nothing but silence and Percy braced himself for the inevitable breakdown. He flinched a bit, preparing for the splinters of wood to fly at his face as the beast tore through the door like paper. But there was nothing.

Just silence.

Hours went by and with each passing minute, Percy felt the hunger inside him growing increasingly unmanageable. He knew that simply avoiding the pain inside his stomach would no longer suffice. He needed food, and soon. There had been no noises indicating another presence lurking around his room, and Percy presumed that meant that the beast had settled back somewhere to avoid disturbance. As his stomach continued to growl loudly, Percy figured that it would be best to take his chances than to actually waste away in this room. Being in this castle meant that he would always have to be on guard, and it would be impossible to defend himself in an attack on an empty stomach.

He quietly slipped out of his room, tip-toeing his way down the long hall. He paused every few moments to listen for the tell-tale movement of the beast. When he was met with nothing but silence, Percy continued onward.

He quietly navigated down the main staircase, and wandered around the main level of the castle, looking for any signs leading to the kitchen. His minimal knowledge of the layout of his new home was making the task quite difficult. When he finally stumbled across the dining room, Percy considered it a great achievement. The dining room proved to be a fairly large in length, as its main furnishings comprised of an ostentatiously long table, with ten chairs adorning each side and one sat rightfully at each end. They appeared as to not have been touched in years. It was rather lonely for a room, if rooms could be such things as lonely. A large curtain hung behind the table, covering a window which had likely not allowed light to pass through in a decade.

Percy spotted a small door towards the back wall, lit with soft light, leading to the kitchen. He began to make his way towards it when something on the end of the table caught his eye. There was a plate left sitting by the vacant chair, filled to the brim with more food than Percy could ever dream of consuming at once. There were meats, vegetables, and even a peculiar grey mush. Percy curiously swept his finger through it, bringing it up to his lips and humming in approval at its deliciousness- it’s appearance hardly doing the flavor any justice. The chair at its place had been pulled from the table, unlike the others, as if in an invitational gesture to be seated. He carefully looked around him to make sure he was alone before accepting the indirect invitation, settling down in it. His stomach let out another ravenous growl as the smell of the food wafted up to his nose and he licked over his lips quickly before diving into the meal left for him.

It continued like that for days: Percy would hide away in his room, keeping himself engaged in one-sided conversation and plans of escape, then, as if on cue, the beast would knock on his door and invite him to dinner. Some days his temperament was pleasant and mild, others he sounded on the brink of a murderous rampage. Percy never knew which version would appear on the other side of the door, and so each day he declined for it was in his best interest to not to flirt with danger. When he would feel himself overtaken with hunger, he’d sneak down to the dining room only to find a plate prepared just for him at the head of the table. He didn’t know why this was being allowed, especially after the threat of starvation had arisen on multiple occasions. Perhaps the beast wanted to keep him around for a bit longer for torture. Perhaps the real punishment wasn’t being held captive and instead it was being given freedom- albeit, restricted freedom- yet having nothing to do with it, leaving one to go mad as isolation and loneliness built up the real prison in the mind. After seven days of alternating between moping in his room and sneaking down for meals, Percy decided it was finally time to break free from this pitiful routine.  

After Percy finished his dinner on the seventh day of captivity, he pushed the plate aside knowing that in the morning it would be replaced with yet another. Not wanting to go back to his room, which, despite being more extravagant and homey than the cell, still held an aura of imprisonment, Percy set off to explore the castle. After all, the beast had told him that it was his home now and he was free to go wherever he pleased, well, except the West Wing.

 _What could he be hiding there that’s so bad?_ Percy wondered. Curiosity had always been one of his bigger flaws- it’s partially what drove him to keep reading and questioning everything around him. He had never been easily placated by simple orders or explanations, always desiring to probe deeper than what was in front of him. That particularly troublesome- as his uncle had called it- quality in him was what led him up the stairs, turning from the direction which led to his bed chambers, and heading up to the forbidden West Wing. He was determined to figure out more about who was holding him prisoner. There were so many questions he had about his captor, and so little possible answers. Percy was positive that all of the answers he needed would be where he was risking his life to go.

The West Wing was unlike any place he had ever witnessed in his life. It was dark and daunting, and the air radiated uneasiness, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end as his stomach twisted into panic-induced knots. Shreds of paintings drooped from the walls in tattered remains and the only thing breaking the eerie silence was the occasional squeaking of unseen mice. Percy stepped closer towards one of the paintings hanging in the hall, picking up a fallen piece and dragging it up in the frame in an attempt to put it back into its proper place. He squinted and cocked his head to the side as he examined the broken artwork. It appeared to be a human boy about his age, with luscious brown hair and- _holy shit_. Percy dropped the torn fabric as soon as he saw it.

_It couldn’t be! There was no way…_

The same eyes which had stared him down as he was thrown into the cell, the same eyes which had bored right through his body as he was shown his room- those were the eyes which stared back at him from the portrait on the wall.   

It was him. Well, it was certainly some variation of him, for the subject in the painting was clearly a royal, perhaps a Prince? It was certainly not the monster who skulked around this castle.

His insatiable curiosity was now fueled even brighter, determined more than ever for answers. Percy kept on, guiding himself through deserted rooms left in shambles, their only form of decoration being overturned furniture and shredded curtains barely hanging on by the windows. It appeared as if a storm had blown in and not ceased for years, violently upsetting everything in its path. Except he knew the storm was actually a beast with a temper issue.

The worst was the room all the way at the end of the hall. The spot where two large doors had once occupied was now concealed only with a sheer fabric, which barely allowed a view into the room. Once Percy entered, however, it was clear that this was where the monster slept. There was a large bed, identical to his, yet worn and beaten down to an almost unusable state. Pain. That’s what the West Wing symbolized, Percy realized. The entire wing was nothing but a physical manifestation of the pain rooted deep inside this creature.

The only thing which breathed life to the room was a shining red rose tucked away by the balcony. It stood alone on a table, encased in glass. Percy stepped towards it in a trance-like state. The magic radiating from its petals only enhanced as he stood in front of it, his eyes transfixed. It was as if the rose was calling out to him and Percy was all too willing to comply. He reached out with both hands, slowly lifting the glass casing up from around the rose, his eyes never leaving the brilliance of the petals.

_“What are you doing?!”_

Percy was knocked aside with brutal force, his body tumbling into a pile of shattered wood. He winced in pain, but the beast didn’t seem to notice. Percy watched as he carefully placed the casing back on, hovering over it protectively. Once the flower was covered again, the eyes- the same ones from the portrait- gazed at him with a murderous glare.

_“Do you realize what you could have done?!”_

Percy stood up shakily, his hands out in defense. Before he could stutter out an apology, the beast was barreling towards him. Percy ducked out of the way before their bodies collided. There was a large growl as the beast bared all of his teeth, standing up to tower over Percy’s shaking body.

 _“Get out,”_ he seethed, swiftly knocking his upturned desk out of his direct path to Percy. The way his body was on edge, Percy knew he was about to attack once more. _“GET OUT!”_

The roar of his words rattled the room around them and without thinking, Percy turned and ran. With his heart pounding loudly in his chest, he blindly stumbled back down the hall, out of the West Wing. His gut was telling him that if he stayed a moment longer, he’d be dead. He wasn’t going to hide out in his room and wait for this to blow over; no, he was leaving. Fuck the promise to take Felicity’s place. Fuck the dangers awaiting him in the woods. He was leaving for good.

As the gates to the castle swung shut behind him, Percy wiped at the few tears staining his cheek as he continued to run as fast from this infernal place as his legs would take him.

He didn’t make it far before the familiar cries of the wolves announced his presence in the woods.

Percy knew he couldn’t outrun the wolves, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to fight till the last second. As his legs powered him through the rough terrain, his curls flew across his face and snagged in loose branches but despite the pain, he still would not give in. He had survived being held prisoner, but he would likely not survive this, yet he was still willing to try. The journey to town would be too long and soon he would be caught by the predators. As he pushed blindly through the trees, he came across an unfamiliar clearing.

“Shit,” he breathed. The cold, unforgiving eyes of hungry wolves stared him down from across the way. He turned to look behind him and found nothing but pairs of hungry eyes slowly creeping up on him. It was as if they could sense his suffering, thriving off the panic coursing through his veins. His heart stopped in his chest as he watched the pack leader pounce. Percy closed his eyes, embracing the inevitable pain, yet there was nothing. He nervously opened his eyes and gasped at the sight in front of him:

The wolf laid dead on the ground, it’s neck snapped and body limp and standing over it was the beast. Before he could call out a warning, Percy watched in horror as another wolf jumped onto the beast’s back, sinking it’s teeth in. He wailed in pain, yet with one easy motion, reached back and flung the animal off him. The sound of bones cracking filled the air upon impact, but Percy could barely hear it over the hammering of his heart echoing throughout his body. The wolves had a new target now and Percy could only stand in place, cemented in fear, and watch. One by one, the wolves took their turn attacking the beast, and yet one by one they all fell, either by death or injury. By the time one remained, it took one look at its pack before howling and running off, back into the safety of the trees. The beast turned to Percy, his mouth opening as if to speak but no words came out. His chest heaved with each breath and his body staggered as he attempted to take a step closer. Percy quickly moved towards him, barely catching his side as he began to collapse. He grunted under the weight, but succeeded in holding the beast up, wrapping an arm around his monstrous waist.

“You have to help me,” he urged softly. “I can’t carry you alone.”

They slowly began their journey back towards the castle, no longer swayed by the threat of wolves.

* * *

 

The soft flicker of the fireplace illuminated the room with a hazy glow. Percy was perched on his knees in front of where Monty now sat, slumped down in a chair, wincing in pain. A bowl of hot water sat by his feet and Percy dipped a cloth into it before bringing it up to a large reddened scratch on Monty’s forearm. Monty couldn’t help but stare at the boy and how his skin glowed in the light of the flames. Percy was indeed beautiful, there was no question about it. Monty had noticed that from the first moment he had laid eyes on him. He spent his nights tormented by the image of him each time he closed his eyes.

Monty loathed the fact that he couldn’t control himself around Percy. Efforts to be polite and charming were dismantled by the animalistic urges buried deep inside of him. Hiding away to let Percy live unbothered in the castle was the only way Monty knew to protect himself, yet each day he attempted to reclaim some form of humanity by inviting Percy to dine with him. It had started to come as relief when Percy declined, considering Monty now knew that there was one thing worse than being alone: the agony of being in the presence of someone and knowing they would never look at you and feel the same as you do for them. His previous isolation from Percy proved worthwhile because sitting here, looking down at Percy as he tended to him, was the most beautiful form of torture Monty’s heart had ever withstood.   

“Just...hold still, okay? This may sting,” Percy warned before placing the rag over the scratch with as little pressure as possible. The roar which followed sounded almost foreign to Monty, having temporarily forgotten who, or rather what, he was.  

“That _hurts_!” he cried, whipping his arm away from Percy’s grip.

“Well if you wouldn’t move, it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

“Well if you hadn’t run away, none of this would have happened, now would it?”

“Well if you hadn’t nearly killed me I wouldn’t have run away! My god, you _have_ to control your temper,” Percy scolded and Monty was taken aback by the tone. He had only been scolded in that manner by one other person in his life. His father may be long gone, but Monty found himself flinching out of instinct as he waited for the familiar sting of a hand across his face. If Percy noticed, he didn’t comment. He simply reached forward and brought Monty’s arm back to him, pressing down fully onto the wound. A small whimper escaped his lips at the pain but he didn’t pull away. “Besides,” Percy continued, not looking up to meet his eyes, “it was only just a rose. But thank you… for saving my life.”

Percy’s words caught Monty off guard. ‘Thank you’ was something he had never heard aimed towards him, save for situations in which he was being thanked (repeatedly) for sexual gratification, but never was it out of sheer kindness. Percy looked up at him and Monty suddenly felt hot under his gaze. He silently thanked the fact that fur covered his entire face, not allowing Percy to see the blush which would certainly have stained his skin pink if he were still human.

“Well, uhm, you’re welcome,” he stammered out, averting his eyes from Percy’s. They fell into a silence as Percy continued to tend to his wounds. It wasn’t until he was wringing the rag out for the final time that Monty found himself speaking again.

“It’s not just a rose, so you know.”

Percy didn’t look at him as he picked up the bowl and carried it to set down at the side table. “Oh?”

“It’s a very… special rose.”

“Is it what makes you what you are?” he asked, almost nonchalantly. Monty let out a soft laugh, shaking his head a bit. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was allowing himself to be so unguarded, but he would point blame at his weakened physical state; he just couldn’t muster up the energy to maintain his intimidating front.   

“It’s more of a reminder of what I am,” Monty explained. “Of how much longer I have left.”

That comment seemed to spark interest, for Percy found himself back at Monty’s feet, sitting cross-legged on the floor and staring up at him intently. Monty’s heart ached as he stared down into his beautiful brown eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I was cursed and after the last petal from that rose falls, I’m stuck like this forever.”

Percy’s expression was one of wonder, and his eyes looked up at Monty as if he were seeing him for the first time.

“So that boy in the portrait, that… that was you?” he asked.

“Hard to imagine, right?” Monty asked. He attempted to sound humorous, but became choked up in the process; thinking about his past life only caused him pain. He preferred not to dwell on it, but the way Percy looked at him as he unveiled the truth- that bewilderment lighting up his eyes- well, Monty would relive the pain every day until the end if it meant he got to witness that beauty.  

“How old were you when you were cursed?”

“Eighteen.”

“How old are you now?”

Monty sighed. “Still eighteen.”

“You mean, you’ve never aged?”

“You sound like quite the genius.”

“It was only a question,” Percy mumbled, looking down and picking at the frayed ends of his shirt.  

“I’m sorry. It’s just a delicate subject for me, as you can imagine.”

“Did you just… apologize to me?” Percy asked as he looked back up at Monty, a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t get used to it.”

A beat of silence, then:

“I feel terribly awkward asking this, but what is your name?” Percy questioned. Monty stared down at him in curious amusement.

“What?”

“You must have had a name as a human, and it would be far easier to call you that than… other words which you’ve voiced your aversion to.”

Monster. Percy meant monster. And now he wanted to know this _monster’s_ name. Monty wasn’t a fool, he knew that even if Percy were to know his true identity, it wouldn’t change how he felt towards him. Monty would always be the monster- the beast, the creature- who locked him away and held him prisoner. Adding informality to the mix would only create a false sense of camaraderie, with true companionship being something Monty could only hope for.

Hope was a very unwise basis for thought, but Monty had never prided himself on being wise.

“Monty.”

“Monty,” Percy repeated, as if trying it out for himself. Hearing his name come out of those beautiful lips turned Monty’s insides aflame. He was used to the ever-present disappointed tone accompanying his name whenever his father spoke it, and Monty was certainly aware of the way it sounded mixed in with raucous moans. Yet, somehow, hearing Percy speak his name, it was as if he was hearing it for the first time, as if it was stripped away from any past connotations and displayed proudly on a blank slate.

No disappointment, no pleasure. Just Monty.

They stayed up through most of the night, watching as the last of the embers burned in the fireplace. It was mostly silent between them, and Monty figured it was due to their severe exhaustion after the night’s harrowing near death escapes. He also attributed their fatigued state to how they managed to be within as close proximity as they were without it turning into a mess of insults and threats he would certainly regret later. Monty wasn’t going to lie- it was a nice change of events.

It wasn’t until soft snores could be heard drifting from the ground that Monty looked down and realized that Percy had fallen asleep, his head leaned against his leg. He could hardly imagine that his rough fur was anywhere near comfortable for the poor boy. Not wanting to disturb Percy as he rested, but knowing that sleeping in the manner in which he was would be terribly uncomfortable to wake up from, Monty reached down and gently scooped him up into his arms. Percy stirred, yet never woke. Some loose curls had fallen over his eyes during the shift, and Monty felt himself having to consciously make an effort to look away, but he couldn’t. His eyes betrayed his mind as he continued to watch him sleep peacefully, unaware of the swell of emotions his presence caused in Monty’s heart. He longed to get to know the man in his arms- the one who had been so brave and kind to his friend in the tower, the one who had willingly walked back into captivity to save his life after the wolves.

Those feelings which arose in him, he had never felt those desires for as long as he could remember. Monty was almost frightened at the meaning of it all: the possibility of him falling for Percy, in a genuine manner digging far past superficial attractions. It was bittersweet and strange, recognizing that change within him. He wished to god he knew how to make it stop.

The next morning, Percy woke up to a stiffness in his neck so unbearable, he couldn’t help but groan as he attempted to stretch it out, cracking the joints in the process. As he slowly drifted into consciousness, there was the faint, yet distinct, smell of eggs drifting into his room. The smell was enticing enough to force him to sit up and climb out of bed, signalling the unfortunate all too early start to another long day of absolutely nothing. He wasn’t expecting today to be as horrible as yesterday, however, because he was absolutely not daft enough to make the same mistake twice by attempting to run off alone. Yet, he still couldn’t help but wish that there was something to fill the days. If he were forced to mope around an empty castle for the rest of his life, Percy would surely off himself in a few weeks time. Perhaps he could ask Monty what he does all day long. After all, he was trapped here as well and hadn’t found it necessary to manually end his suffering. There certainly must be something to keep one’s mind occupied from the absence of freedom.

As soon as his hand reached out to open the door, he was stopped by a quick rap of knocks. He pulled it open revealing Monty standing there, a plate of eggs and a glass of water in his hands.

“Goodmorning. I, uh, I made you some food.”

The confounded feeling inside Percy must have shown on his face, as Monty began to shift his weight from one foot to the other skittishly. His eyes were going everywhere except Percy’s face; it almost appeared as if he was nervous. For what, Percy had absolutely no idea. He remembered then, all too late, about his habit of sleeping in nothing save for his pants, leaving his upper body completely exposed before Monty. Before Percy could respond or move to cover up, the eggs and water were forcefully shoved into his hands as Monty ran off. Percy blinked a few times in confusion before retreating back to his room. Delivering food to his room was uncharacteristically kind for Monty, and surely Percy being partially exposed didn’t warrant him running off. After their bonding moment last night, Percy assumed that they could now coexist on decent terms. Perhaps this was Monty’s way of showing that he wished the same and he had gotten frightened in the process.

As he finished his breakfast, it suddenly dawned on Percy that he had yet to properly bathe in this place. His method of cleansing in the past week had consisted of using water from the kitchen sink for washing his hands and face, and if he felt truly inspired, his hair. He hadn’t dared go exploring for the washroom out of fear of running into Monty. But as Percy caught drift of an odd smell emanating from his body, he knew that it was well past time for a proper bath, and if Monty owed him anything for tending to his wounds last night, he would take his reward in the form of hot water and soap.

After he sought Monty out for his request, Percy was pleasantly surprised when he easily obliged, even leading Percy to the tub himself and fixing it up for him.

“I haven’t used this in years,” Monty admitted. “I can’t quite fit in it anymore, so I had to get creative. But it should be perfect for you.”

“Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome, really.” Percy didn’t have to look at Monty to know there was a smile on his face. He could hear it in his tone.

Once Percy was alone, he stripped out of his old, worn clothes, making a mental note to wash those after. A smile fell across his face as his body sank down into the heated water, and it was as if all the troubles over the last week were being washed away with his filth. There was something comforting about a warm bath, like a mother’s kiss or the sweet embrace of a lover. Percy had, of course, never experienced either of those, but from what he had read, he imagined they were quite similar, soothing feelings.

He found himself getting lost in the warmth, the steam creating an atmosphere of his own where there was no castle, no village, nothing except Percy and freedom. Freedom to go wherever and do as he pleased, without disruption. In this perfect world, he imagined himself sitting by the fire, curled up in the arms of a beautiful man as he delved into his books. As he finished his read, Percy would turn to look up at his partner, ready to have all his thoughts on the story eagerly listened to, only to be met with blue eyes- familiar, icy blue eyes accompanied by strands of lush, blond hair.

Percy’s eyes shot open as he shook his head. No. That man could have easily been anyone, Percy would argue, but deep down he knew who plagued his mind. He pointed fault at having stumbled across that damned portrait in the West Wing. If he had never seen Monty’s true figure, misunderstandings such as this would not occur. He could play it off as the heat messing with his mind, paired with the growing insanity stemming from his boredom and isolation within the castle walls. It was surely enough to make any man imagine strange things. Sure, Monty and he had been sat by the fire the night before like in this dream, but that was after Monty had almost killed Percy in blind rage. Then again, Monty had also run after Percy through the woods and nearly had himself killed attempting to save his life. Those actions were hardly enough to consider them acquaintances, however. No, they were simply strangers thrust into coexistence by calamitous circumstances. It didn’t matter how attractive he had been in a past life. That’s all it was: the past. It did nothing to balance how coarse and ill-tempered he was now. There was absolutely, certainly nothing there.

After his bath and a great effort of washing his clothes, Percy emerged from the washroom a new man: face clear of grime, and clothes damp, yet no longer styled in mud. It may not have been much, but at this moment, Percy would gladly take anything which gave him a semblance of normalcy. His next mission was to hunt down Monty and figure out what exactly to do with his time before he began to reach peak insanity.

Monty was found in the last place Percy sought out.

As he rounded the corner into Monty’s room, anxiety shot throughout his body. The last time he had entered the forbidden wing, the both of them had almost died in the aftermath. It was safe to say Percy was more than nervous to approach Monty’s figure, laid out across his bed with his back towards the door. He barely made it ten steps in when the deep, rumbling voice spoke up:

“What do you want?”

“How did you hear me?”

“I’m a monster, remember?”

“You’re not a monster, Monty.” Percy stepped closer.

“You think I am.”

“Why does it matter what I think?” One step closer. He could almost reach out and touch the bed. “I thought I was just your prisoner.”

“You saved my life, though.”

“I cleaned your wounds, that’s hardly heroic.” The bed was right in front of him, pressing up against his thighs. “Are they still hurting you?”

He heard a scoff. “No.” A pause. “Okay maybe a little.”

Percy took that as an invitation to sit down next to him. “Let me look.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“Though you just acclaimed me for saving your life,” he countered. “Now let me look, okay? Stop being so stubborn.”

Monty growled at him, but eventually turned so he was laying on his back, looking upwards and not making eye contact. After Percy’s little delusion in the tub, he was thankful to not look him in the eyes. Instead, he focused on the faded redness painted across Monty’s arm from the attack. It definitely had healed some, but it would take a while for it to completely recover.

“See? It’s not so bad.”

“Now you’re just patronizing me.”

“I’d never patronize you, _darling_.” Percy quipped.  

“Are you mocking me?”

Percy couldn’t help the grin from spreading on his face. “Nope.”

There was an unpleasant scowl on Monty’s face. “We’re not friends, you know. What happened last night doesn’t mean that we can _get along_ or what have you.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve meant to ask what exactly happened last night. You were quite tolerable for once. You actually talked to me.”

“So?”

“So it was… nice. I appreciated your honesty, Monty.” Percy hadn’t realized it, but his hands had instinctively gone to the fur on Monty’s arm, threading through it methodically. It was something he used to do with Felicity’s hair whenever she was upset. The repetitiveness of the motion soothed her, and it appeared to be working on Monty as well. His scowl softened at the sound of his name.

“Oh, uh, well I appreciate you. I mean- I appreciate you being here. Not that I _enjoy_ it or anything. It’s just… nice to have someone around.”

Percy simply smiled as he continued to brush through the fur. At times, Monty could be as unreadable as a blank page, yet other times he was as predictable as the sun rising in the east each morning. It didn’t take long for Percy to realize that with him it was always one step forward and two back. Each time something relatively pleasant came from him, he’d revert back to his rude and unkempt ways as if on instinct. Everything was a double-edged sword when it came to him.

“Can I ask you something?” Percy asked, his fingers stalling in place.

“Hmm?”

“How do you keep busy around here?”

“I don’t.”

“Monty.”

“No, really, I don’t do anything.”

“That sounds rather depressing.”

“It is.”

A few minutes of stalled silence go by before Monty spoke up once more: “What did you do in your village for fun?”

“Me? I read. All the time. My uncle used to tell me that if anyone would want to paint my portrait they’d end up with my face as a book as I always had my nose stuck in one.”

“Really?” Monty sounded almost surprised at the fact. “What was your favorite book?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” he replied to which Monty shuddered and made a gagging face.

“Awful.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The story- it’s awful,” Monty explained. “These poor children believe they’re each other’s true loves, so what do they do? They kill themselves. How romantic. Romeo never even loved Juliet; he was too much of a scoundrel and she was simply his latest conquest.”

Percy’s heart stopped momentarily in his chest. Those words sounding awfully familiar, although not exact to what he had been explaining to Felicity only a week before. “That’s why it’s my favorite, though. It reminds me to be careful because nobody is ever as they seem. You could give someone everything they ever wanted from you, and it still couldn’t be enough. Their eyes are always on the door, waiting for something better to walk in.”   

“Speaking from experience?”

“I’m very observant.”

Monty simply hummed in response. “Who would’ve guessed?”

“What?”  
“The hero’s just a cynic with a pretty face.”

“What?”

“What?” Monty mimicked, looking over at Percy with a wicked grin. “You’re starting to sound like me, darling, and there’s no room for two depressed souls here. Don’t let my bad influence destroy your life as well.”

“My life was fine until I came under your influence.”

“I see it’s already begun.”

Percy let out a sharp laugh at that. “You know what you are?” he asked, daring to look into Monty’s eyes.

“Wildly attractive?” he deadpanned, a glint of mischievousness burning bright in his eyes.

Percy tried to keep a serious face, yet ended up failing as his lip curled up into an amused grin. He hated himself for whatever _this_ was, but with Monty finally in a good mood, Percy found it difficult to actively hate him. When he was pleasant, being around him felt as if, in another life, they could have been great friends. But they weren’t in another life, so Percy would never pass up an opportunity to take a dig at his expense. After all, Monty rightfully deserved each one. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“But darling, we’ve yet to really get to know each other.”

“You seemed willing to open up to me last night.”

“Lots of people are willing to open up at night,” Monty pointed out with a smirk. “Surely you already knew that.”

Percy’s cheeks flushed pink at that. “Actually, uh, no.”

“No?” Monty asked in genuine surprise. Percy wasn’t sure if he should feel flattered that Monty assumed he would have people, uhm, ‘willing to open up’ for him, or disgusted that Monty thought about people being willing to open up for him.  

“I’m not talking about this. Not with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” Percy’s face was still bright red. “You’re...you. You’re-”

“A pain in your ass?” Monty finished. “But you brought me from the woods. You still saved my life.”

Percy nodded. “I did.”

Monty then slowly sat upright in bed causing Percy to pull his hand away out of instinct.

“You know, I think I may have an idea of what you can do around here.”

Standing awestruck in the doorway, Percy gazed in wonder at the beauty before him. Monty had excitedly- which was decidedly out of character for him- pulled Percy from the West Wing and down a maze-like corridor, one Percy hadn’t seen before. It was so far out of the way of the rest of the rooms, it was almost as if it only existed solely for the two of them. And it was oh-so-beautiful.

Wall to wall shelves of hundreds- no, thousands- books stood gloriously in their places. Monty gripped Percy’s hands and dragged him fully inside the library, watching him intently as Percy looked around. He truly felt as if his heart were about to burst. As he spun around, taking in the full splendor of the endless rows of books, stacked high to the ceiling, Percy knew then what love felt like: it was being surrounded by all of these stories, more than he could possibly ever read in his lifetime; it was like coming home after a long journey. Monty had delivered him to the promised land, and Percy never wanted to leave, captivated by all of the possibilities laid out before him. The books, they beckoned for him.

“Do you like it?” Monty asked quietly, as if he were trying not to disturb Percy’s moment.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered as he continued to look around, hypnotized by their presence.

“Well if you like it all that much, then it’s yours.”

Percy broke out of his trance, whipping his head around to stare at Monty in disbelief. “What?”

“The library. The books. Everything. It’s yours.”

Percy couldn’t hold himself back. His body betrayed what his mind was urging him not to do, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Monty tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered shakily. His body felt so overwhelmed that tears were proving to be inevitable. When he pulled away from the embrace, he reached up and wiped at the few stray tears which had made their way down his cheeks. He took one more glance around him, pausing as his eyes landed on Monty’s.

Percy didn’t know what it was- perhaps it was the way the lighting from the sun cast a glow across Monty’s face, revealing a softer demeanor than the harsh front he was accustomed to wearing, or the way they had fallen into a natural banter the way in which puzzle pieces slid into place, or even the fact that Monty had just gifted him the most fantastic library he could only have dreamt up- but he felt something right then. It wasn’t a cosmic shift like revelations in stories from his past. No, it was as subtle as the blurring of a sunset’s colors from purple to red in one motion- you blink and all of a sudden it’s a completely different view. Looking at Monty, Percy felt as if he had just blinked and suddenly violets were crimsons, and there was most certainly something there inside of him that wasn’t there before.


	4. New, and a Bit Alarming

“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” Percy smiled to himself as he slowly closed the book, his gaze focused on the way his fingers curled across the cover.

“I cannot believe you talked me into this.”

Percy’s eyes shot up as they met Monty’s and his smile faltered. “What, listening to me read?”

“No, not you, darling- the story. Even you can’t make it any less dreadful, I’m afraid.”

“But you told me to surprise you! What was I supposed to read?”

“Honestly, any other story would’ve sufficed.”

Percy huffed as he set the book down on the cushion occupying the space between Monty and him on the sofa. “Well if you hate it so much, why do you still have it? Why not use it as kindling for the fire? That seems more your taste.”

“Oh, Percy, haven’t you guessed by now? I’m a raging masochist.” Monty flashed him a grin, exposing his fangs.

By now the sight of them no longer incited disgust within his bones. The barrier built on mutual distrust and lethal altercations between them was slowly but surely crumbling. With each passing day, Percy could feel the air between them growing lighter; he felt as if he could finally breathe easily for the first time in weeks, not having to constantly look over his shoulder at each creak and moan of the settling structure. Every hour spent together felt like a stitch, mending together the broken parcels of their lonely existences into one interwoven story of their own.

Percy rolled his eyes in response. “You know, you don’t sway me anymore with your whole...thing.”

“Thing?” Monty questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“You know the whole self pity thing. I must admit, it worked at first but it’s been almost two months, Monty. I don’t pity you; I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“I want to be your friend.”

Monty scoffed. “And here I thought we’ve been friends for a while.”

Percy grinned smugly at that. “Took you long enough to admit it. You’re so terribly stubborn, I wasn’t sure you’d ever outright say it.”

“I am not stubborn!”

“Yes you are!”

Monty scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest defensively. “I am not. And it’s not fair of you to trick me.”

“How did I trick you?”

“Into saying we were friends.”

“Are we not?”

Monty appeared to mull it over for a few moments before shrugging. “I suppose we are. Not for much longer, I’m afraid, if you keep choosing awful books to read.”  “Whatever you say, Monty.”

A charged silence fell between them, and as Percy reached forward to pick up the book, Monty’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Did you mean it, though? That you want to be my friend?”

Percy chewed on his lip as he tried to hide twitch of his lips turning his grin to a genuine smile. He nodded slowly.

“I did- I mean, I am your friend. I’ve thought so for a while now.”

“But why? After everything I’ve done…”

“You’ve changed, Monty. I don’t really know how to explain it but you have. Trust me when I say that you are nothing like the man who locked me up.”

There was no resentment in his tone when referencing the poor conditions under which they met, for Percy truly meant what he said. Something had changed in Monty, and his behavior now was unrecognizable compared to the man who had attacked him during his first week here. He was no longer cruel or unrefined; it was almost as if the beastly exterior of his heart had cracked, allowing freedom for the humanity trapped inside the man who sat before him now. Of course, he wasn’t exactly a man, still. The fangs and fur still remained but Percy knew that deep down, there was a human soul begging for release.

He wanted nothing more than to help Monty break the curse. However, each time he questioned Monty for the cure, he was dismissed and the discussion was abruptly changed. The constant dismissals did nothing to stop Percy, though. He spent days scouring the library, looking for any book which may have insight to the magic used to curse Monty, but came up empty each time. One would assume that a curse as powerful as this would have some mention in at least one book, whether of the witchcraft or folklore genre, but there was nothing. Percy felt helpless watching as Monty’s fate slipped away with the hands of time. Despite Monty discouraging him from pursuing a cure, Percy vowed to not stop until it was found. After all Monty had done for him, he at least owed him an effort to free him.  

“I’m sorry about holding you prisoner, you know. Truly, I’m sorry.”

“I know. You tell me everyday.”

“I just want to make sure that you know how much it plagues me to think about. When I look back at my behavior it was atrocious. You didn’t deserve that. Neither did your friend.”

Percy felt his cheeks flush red at the sincerity in Monty’s voice and the piercing gaze being sent his way. “Thank you,” he whispered, then coughed awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation. “So since you hate my choices of literature so much, why don’t you choose something to read to me?”

“Oh no. I don’t read.”

“ _Can_ you read?”

“ _Yes_ , darling, I can read; I just choose not to. Although I did spend a night in a bookstore once… with a lady. Turns out she was a bestseller there but it didn’t cross my mind until afterwards that she was a prostitute.”

“Monty!”

“Yes?”

“A prostitute, really? Haven’t you any decency?”

“Percy, haven’t you ever looked at a woman and known that you would do anything in your power to allow yourself even a moment with her?”

Percy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I can’t say I have. Not-” he closed his eyes, his hands gripping tightly onto the book as he prepared himself for what was to come next: “- with a woman.”

He kept his eyes shut, wanting to shield himself from Monty’s reaction. He wasn’t sure of how Monty would react. While it was no secret that there were people like him in the world, Percy knew their numbers were few; the number of people willing to accept them were even fewer.

When there was nothing but silence in return, Percy slowly opened his eyes and turned to look up at Monty, his heart racing in his chest. Expecting rage, it came as a relief when he saw no discernible disgust on Monty’s face.

“Have I ever told you about the first boy I’ve ever been with?”

It was a simple question, but the significance of it knocked Percy breathless and he could only shake his head in reply.

 _Boy. The first_ **_boy_ ** _he’d ever been with._

“Well,” Monty continued. “I was sixteen and wandering around a village on my own for the very first time, looking for some fun, when I saw him. God, Percy, I wanted him in a way unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was the first time I had felt such a strong attraction to anyone, as far as I knew. And I knew it would be unwise to pursue him, but I couldn’t ignore the way my heart ached for him. We lounged around the village that night, messing around like boys do, and then as the streets cleared out, he took me to his father’s barn. We spent that night talking about everything, and kissing whenever we found ourselves pulled into a silence. I told him my reservations about becoming King one day and he disclosed his fears that he’d never be able to escape the life of a farmer. I had never found someone I could be so honest with, who listened to what I had to say without judgment. I swear that was the first night I ever felt love, Percy. Under his gaze I felt invincible—  nobody could tell me what we were doing was wrong, that my feelings towards him were sinful, because it felt so perfect.

That is, until his father found us the next morning and dragged me out. Literally, he grabbed my hands and dragged me out. I had scratches on my back for days after the ordeal. I was sent back to the castle in shame, but being dragged out of the barn was heaven compared to what faced me here. I was so shaken up that I ended up spilling everything to my father, thinking he would stand up for his son, but that was the first night he ever raised a hand at me. He took it upon himself to try and beat this… this feeling out of me. It didn’t work, and eventually the bruises on my face became a permanent feature. He thought that violence would change who I am, but he underestimated just how much I loved myself to not deny myself the pleasures that I desired, from whomever I desired. To my parents, I was always the problem child, but the day I came back from the barn I sealed my fate as their disgraced heir—  at least, that’s what they told me on countless occasions afterwards.”

Percy moved a hand up to his chest as a barely audible gasp escaped his lips. “Oh my god, Monty, I’m so sorry. Honestly there aren’t words to describe how awful that is.”

“I thought you didn’t pity me?” Monty asked, his voice thick and it was clear to Percy that he was holding back tears. Percy slowly lowered his hand down to his lap, shaking his head a bit.

“Well, when you bring awful situations onto yourself, I don’t pity you. But that? You didn’t deserve any of that. You were so young...”

Monty shrugged. “Perhaps I did. You didn’t know me back then, Percy, but I was a rather awful child. I was disobedient, arrogant, selfish… That day, when I snuck out, my mother was sick. I was supposed to help tend to her but I wanted to go off on my own. It was incredibly selfish of me, sneaking off with a boy while she was ill. I didn’t care for her at all, Percy. I thought… I thought I was better than them.”

Percy set down the book in his hands and leaned over, placing both of his hands over Monty’s paws, gently giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Monty, who you were in the past does not dictate who you become. When I look at you now I barely even see the man I met months ago, and the kid who you are describing? He is long gone. You are kind, Monty, and caring—  hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. I mean it, every word. You have so much to offer, and you can’t let the weight of your past drag you down or prevent you from moving past it.”

Monty looked at him, his eyes sorrowful and wet with unshed tears. “I don’t deserve your kindness. I’m a monster. You shouldn’t even be here, but you are because of me.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be here. I should be locked away in that damned tower like we agreed. But you, Monty, you gave me a home here. You can’t tell me that a monster would have given me this library and saved my life after running off. A monster would have let me die out there, all alone.”

Monty huffed at that. “I suppose you’re correct.”  

Percy gave his paws one last squeeze before letting go. “I would really enjoy listening to you read,” he brought up once more in an attempt to change the subject. “I’m quite curious as to what your choice would be.”

“I’m not even sure, myself. I can’t remember the last time I picked up a book to read for pleasure.”

“How about this: I pick one out for you and you have to read it for me.”

“As long as it’s not a love story.”

Percy smiled as he stood up, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear and trying to ignore the way in which Monty stared at him. “I think I know of something to your tastes.”

When Percy sat back down, he ignored their unspoken rule of keeping space between them. His body found itself settled in right next to Monty’s as he handed him the chosen book. He watched as Monty studied it curiously.

“This is a book about fairy tales.”

“Yes.”

“Percy, this is ridiculous.”

“No it’s not! There are so many fascinating stories in there! Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, even princes in disguise!” He didn’t need to mention the similarities between the stories and his current predicament with his own prince in a cursed disguise.  

“But they’re… fairy tales.”

“Monty, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. The stories in there are so far ahead of the times—  they’re proof that anything can happen. It’s like pieces of magic in the real world. Just give them a chance, please? For me?”

Monty grumbled something under his breath but opened the book nevertheless.

“Once upon a time…”

* * *

As he slowly made his way through the stories in the book, Monty realized that Percy was right. The stories in here, they were special, and he understood now why Percy loved them so much. They were like beacons of hope for the underdogs, for those who felt out of place in their worlds. But what made them the most special, for Monty, wasn’t their content, but the way in which Percy’s face lit up as Monty regaled the stories for him. He could see the faint movement of Percy’s lips out of the corner of his eye as he silently mouthed along with the words, and Monty found it to be one of the most endearing sights he had ever encountered.

Before he even realized it, he was already halfway through the book, but it had felt as if time hadn’t passed at all. He had come to realize weeks ago that Percy had that effect on him, but it still never ceased to amaze him how their time spent together seemed to move differently than when Monty had been trapped here all alone. The time spent around Percy was time where nothing else existed save for the two of them, and Monty no longer feared the chiming of the clock quite like he once had. Each hour that passed was not one spent alone, simmering in self loathing; it was an hour spent with the one person who was beginning to make him remember just how beautiful life could be. He had this ability to bring light and warmth to even the most desolate corners of the castle.

Percy had mentioned how Monty had changed, but what Percy wasn’t aware of was how he was the direct cause for the shift inside of him. For Monty, each moment spent by his side felt as if Percy were reaching into his soul, tenderly brushing away the darkness clouding his heart. Before Percy had entered his life, Monty’s heart had beat only with the intention of keeping him alive, but now each pulse inside of him surged with a passion for dark curls and soft brown eyes. It felt as if Percy had already broken his heart free of the curse’s cage, a feeling which exposed an alarming truth that he was terrified to face: Monty was in love.

He had known for a while now that it was useless to fight it- that internal battle of protecting himself versus allowing his heart to be put out on the line—  as his feelings for Percy were too strong to ignore. Years ago, Monty had been careless with his heart; he was young and naive, but that all came to an abrupt end as soon as the beatings started. Monty soon realized that acting upon emotional impulse was dangerous, and he swore to himself that he’d never make the same mistake again; he made the decision that all interactions with him would be loveless and void, only allowing for physical pleasure as it was the safest way. His father could beat him over meaningless sex, but if Monty were to ever fall in love with a man, he knew that the beatings would only be replaced with being disownment and being tossed onto the street like garbage. He could survive a punch, but not being out on his own. However, soon the actions to protect his heart had evolved into a cruel, irreversible callous attitude which sent him straight onto the path to the Enchantress’s damnation.

He knew he was being careless once again, but with Percy, he knew somehow this would be different. If only he could get his mind and heart on the same page. Because as he watched Percy, his heart was screaming for him to do something—  anything—  as a gesture to show his true feelings, but his mind would only short circuit and Monty would end up saying something sarcastic in turn, ruining a genuinely good moment.

The best thing about Percy, though, was that he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he would play along with Monty’s snark and sarcasm and dish it right back in a manner that Monty knew all too well to be more than simply friendly banter. It was moments like these in which he allowed himself to push past the doubt clouding his mind and think that maybe, somewhere deep inside of him, Percy felt the same. But then Percy would look away and the moment would slip through Monty’s fingers and he would be reminded that he could never have Percy in the way his heart desired. Except now Percy had given him something that Monty would be able to cherish forever, something better than a fleeting moment of happiness. He had given him a friend.

But as he sat there in the library, reading to Percy as the sun moved across the sky, a nagging thought chipped away in the back of his mind. If the events in these stories— mermaids and magical swords in stones—  could transpire in other worlds, then would it be so impossible to believe that in this realm Percy could learn to love him back?    


As the upcoming days turned into weeks, and the weeks blended into months, Monty found himself too distracted by his growing affections to realize that there were merely a couple petals left on the rose. It was a bittersweet feeling for before Percy entered the picture, the rose had been the sole occupant of his thoughts. The days were spent obsessing over his time left and the nights would be sleepless due to nightmares of the last petal falling. However, now his mind was otherwise occupied.

Monty knew that even after the spell was finalized, he would still be forever grateful for Percy. Even if he would never come to love Monty in the way Monty loved him, Percy had given him a friend when others would have shut him out completely. He had re-taught him what it was like to be a human, showing him that his actions did not have to reflect the animal appearance within which he was trapped. Percy had shown him what it felt like to feel alive again, to have something worth living for.  

He had mentioned to Percy that the boy from the barn years ago was the first person Monty had ever had strong affections for, but those feelings had merely been an infatuation. They were a dim light compared to the brilliance of his love for the man who was curled up against the window in the library, his face tucked deep into a book.  
Monty himself was simply lounging on the sofa, often taking breaks from reading his own book to glance at Percy. He was in a rare moment of reading when he suddenly heard a gasp.

“It’s snowing!”

Monty looked up and saw that there were, indeed, snowflakes falling outside. Rather quickly, at that.  

“Did you want me to turn up the fire?” he asked.

Percy shook his head and smiled excitedly as stood up from his spot.

“Let’s go outside.”

“What?”

“Let’s go out!”

“Remind me again: how old are you?”

“Old enough to know there’s no shame in excitement. Would it kill you to have some fun?”

“I thought reading was fun,” Monty teased but nevertheless he stood up, ignoring Percy’s eye roll. “But you’re going to need something warmer. You haven’t the luxury of having a full time coat on you.” He then nodded his head at the door as in indication for Percy to follow as he turned to walk out of the library.

As the walked through the West Wing, Monty could sense the nervousness coming off of Percy.

“You know, it’s not so scary once you get used to it.”

“I just don’t understand why you like to hide away in the dark so much.”

“It comforts me. It masks who I am.”

“A prince?”

“I believe you’re the only person who would see me and still think of me as a man.”

“Well it’s because you are one, Monty. Besides, I know how it feels to be judged based on what you look like,” Percy admitted quietly as they made their way down the hall. “People in my village were not too fond of me.”

“You know, from all you’ve told me about your village, it sounds positively dreadful. The people there clearly don’t know what they’re missing out on because I’ve known you for only a short amount of time compared to them and I am incredibly fond of you.”

_Jesus Christ, Monty. Just go ahead and confess your love for him now too, while you’re at it._

But if Percy were put off by Monty’s affirmation of desire, he didn’t let it show. In fact, when Monty dared to look at him, he found Percy already staring up at him, a warm smile on his face.

“I’m fond of you too, Monty. I’m glad we’re friends.”

 _Friends_. Monty wanted to steal those words from Percy’s lips so they could never be uttered again. Monty hated how that term of attachment, something which he once longed to hear from Percy, now only caused pain to his heart. He could only smile in reply, but he could see in Percy’s eyes that he knew it was not genuine, but knew better than to question it.

They suddenly stopped in front of a large armoire. “So when I was, you know, a human, I was a bit smaller than you but I’m sure that you’ll be able to fit into at least one item of mine.”

He swung open the doors, revealing clothes which he hadn’t seen in a decade. There had been no point to them for there was no possibility that he could fit into any of his old outfits in his current state. He figured Percy could at least get some use out of them

“You can have whatever fits you,” he told him. “Just make sure you’re properly clothed before going outside, okay? I wouldn’t want you getting sick.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Percy replied followed by a quick laugh as he reached out to sift through the clothes. He ended up pulling out a pair of long wool pants accompanied by a long sleeve grey shirt. “Do you happen to have a jacket I could borrow? I don’t see one in here…”

Monty bounded out of the room, in search of the closet which held all of the outerwear his family used to own. Within seconds, he was back- one of the few benefits of having a inhuman body- and in his hands was a vibrant red long coat. It had belonged to Monty back in the day, but he never felt the color suited his fair complexion. He knew, though, that it would look stunning on Percy. After he handed it to Percy, Monty turned away to allow him some privacy to change. A few minutes went by before Percy let out a quiet cough and Monty turned around, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw the sight in front of him.

He had been correct in assuming that the coat would look good on Percy, complimenting his darker tone in a way that made Monty’s heart beat so rapidly in his chest he was afraid Percy would be able to hear it. But if the clothing made Monty’s heart rate increase to dangerous levels, then what he saw next was the reason for it to stop altogether: Percy had drawn his hair up into a loose bun, allowing for a few curls to fall down and frame his face so eloquently. His exquisite beauty sucked every last breath from Monty’s lungs but the curious expression Percy was directing at Monty only proved that he had absolutely no idea how marvelous he looked.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked worriedly.

“Yeah—  yes. I’m fine. Let’s just… go.” Monty hardly finished stuttering out his reply before he bounded off in the opposite direction, leaving Percy to catch up. Monty couldn’t trust himself to be in such close proximity with Percy looking as beautiful as he did, at least, not without ruining everything out of lovelorn impulse.  

The cold from the snow could not penetrate the fur covering Monty’s body, and as he looked around at the scenery before him, it dawned on him that this was the first time he had stepped foot outside of the castle since the night he saved Percy. It was a splendid feeling. He couldn’t believe the change that Percy had incited all around, and inside of, him. Months ago the idea of being outside and enjoying himself, enjoying life, would have seemed to be an impossible feat.

The sudden feeling of a block of cold slamming into him stunned him out of his thoughts, and he turned to find Percy covering the grin on his face as he laughed.

“Did you just… throw a snowball at me?”

Percy removed his hand from over his mouth as he continued to laugh loudly, throwing his head back. Monty took advantage of his distracted state and gathered up snow in his paws, forming it into a large ball, before chucking it at the laughing boy. The smug look on his face disappeared, however, when he watched Percy’s body take the impact harder than expected and collapse down into the snow.

“Percy?!” Monty rushed over by his side, looking down at Percy as he laid in the snow.

Percy groaned as he covered up his face with his arm. “You are such an ass, do you know that?”

“You may have told me once or twice.” Monty’s smirk returned as he leaned down, offering a paw out for Percy to grab. Once their hands were connected, Monty yanked him up with more force than expected, causing Percy to fly into his chest.

“Jesus, Monty.” Percy shook his head as he stepped back a bit. “Sometimes I forget how strong you are.”

“You know what they say: I can sweep anybody off their feet.”

“Oh really?” Percy questioned, his eyebrow quirking up challengingly. “Anybody?”

“At least that’s what my reputation claims.”

Percy folded his arms across his chest as his lips turned up into a grin. “We’re no longer discussing your strength, are we?”

“Well that depends.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to flirt with me, Monty.”

“Old habits die hard, darling.”

“Yes, I’m sure you were _such_ a catch back then. What, with the stunning personality that you’ve told me so much about,” he teased.

Monty frowned at that, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I’m not proud of who I was, how many times must I tell you that?”

“Oh, Monty, I was just kidding,” Percy replied, his voice nothing but sincere as he stepped closer. He reached up, placing a hand on Monty’s cheek, gently brushing his thumb across it. “I know that’s not who you are. I was just trying to be funny, but I suppose it was in poor taste.”

Monty closed his eyes as he melted into Percy’s touch. It was the most intimate they had ever been and he never wanted them to part. “I suppose I deserve it.”

“What? Monty, no. Look at me.”

Monty breathed in slowly before opening his eyes, looking down at Percy.

“You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t wrong, though.”

“I don’t care. What you were like in the past does not justify you being treated this way now. My comment was uncalled for, and again, I apologize.”

_I love you._

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

_Because your touch is ruining my ability to think rationally._

“Because nobody’s ever apologized to me before, and meant it.”

“Well in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not quite like the company you used to keep.”

Monty smiled at that as he moved a paw to rest over the hand Percy had laid on his cheek. “You most certainly are not. If I had had you in my life back then…”

“Would we have been friends?”

_So much more than that._

“The best of friends.”

“Running around, causing trouble?”

“Somehow you don’t strike me as the troublemaking type.”

“You’re right. I’d have to stick by to keep you in check.”

“Cause I’m a pain in the ass?”

Percy laughed and nodded as he slowly removed his hand from Monty’s cheek, sliding it out from underneath his paw. “How’d you guess?”

“A wise man once told me that.”

“A wise man? Should I be jealous?”

“Jealous? Whatever for?”

“That you’re sneaking out and meeting other people without me, of course.”

Monty honestly couldn’t remember the last time he laughed as hard as he did now. The rumbling in his stomach, a feeling once associated with growls and roars so loud it could shake foundations, now gave way to the sound of pure happiness.

“Is that what you want? To go out and meet other people?”

“Actually, no. I’m quite content here, with you. Nobody really understood me back home. Almost everyone I met was only concerned with how I could make them happy, or what I could do for them. It felt like— ”

“Everyone had a plan for you and never took into consideration what you wanted for yourself?”

“Yes, exactly. How did you know?”

“That’s how I’ve felt my entire life, Percy. I wasn’t rebellious just for the hell of it- well, most of the time it was for the hell of it. Sometimes I was a kid of principle, though.”

Percy rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t hide his smile. He then turned to stand beside Monty, linking his arm around his. “The gardens below my room, can you take me through them?”

“There’s not much to see.”

“I don’t care.”

Monty wasn’t even sure why he was trying to argue. Here was Percy, wrapping his arm around his and inviting him to go for a walk, knowing that there was nothing where they would be headed. It was as if Percy simply wanted an excuse to stick close by him and, well, Monty sure as hell would not pass up that opportunity.

* * *

After their day spent outside, Percy found himself curled up in a chair by the fire, wrapped in a blanket with a warm cup of tea cradled in his hands. Monty had run off to god knows where and he hadn’t seen or heard him since they had come inside.

A warmth not sourced by the fireplace spread throughout his body as he thought back on the earlier conversation. He may not be well experienced in the romantic field, but there was a nagging feeling inside of him that Monty had indeed been flirting with him today. Whether that was intentional or simply out of habit, like Monty had claimed, was the plaguing question. And as crazy as it sounded, Percy silently hoped for it to be the former.

Ever since Monty had given him the library, Percy had found himself unable to look at Monty in the same manner in which he had before. He could almost say that his feelings had edged across the fine line between platonic and romantic. As a strong believer in fate, it was possible that that’s what his journey to the castle had been leading to all along: finding the piece of his life which had been missing.

In his village, he was always the outcast; he felt doomed to relive every day just the same with no escape, no chance to live the life he wanted on his terms. Then, fate handed him his way out in the form of saving Felicity’s life. What he hadn’t known, however, was just how great of an impact that choice would have. By making that decision to stay with Monty, and making the same decision yet again when given the opportunity to run away, Percy had unknowingly handed his heart to fate, allowing it to be given away to the most unlikely of suitors. The reality of discovering that Monty truly was everything Percy always desired was nothing short of alarming; it had just taken a while to uncover the true man underneath the layers of distorted self-identity brought on by years of abuse and abandonment. He was the first person Percy had met who understood the feelings which had left him suffering alone in his village. It seemed to be fate indeed which had brought them together.

His words had been nothing but truthful earlier when he told Monty that he was happier here. While he had Felicity back in the village, Monty was able to connect with Percy on a completely new level of intimacy. And while, sure, the grand gestures Monty had made were lovely, it was the small things which brought them closer together, inciting a spark to the budding love growing inside of Percy. Things like the way Monty would set the blanket by the fire to have it warmed by the time Percy entered the room, or the manner in which they fell into a flirty banter without either seeming to realize it. The way in which they were naturally drawn to each other was undeniable. At first, he would admit, it was a bit frightening for he had never felt so connected to another person in this fashion, but now there was comfort in the way his heart leaped whenever Monty looked his way, and there was a familiarity between them that hadn’t existed before where Percy could give Monty a singular look, and he knew that the other man understood exactly what he was saying.

After an hour passed and there was still no sign of Monty, Percy sighed and stood up from his spot. With the blanket still wrapped around his body, he began to head back up to his room. Just as he was about to open up the door, he felt a presence at the end of the hall. A smile crossed his face as he turned and saw Monty standing there, looking back at him.

“I was waiting for you.”

“I know.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

Percy could detect the slight uncertainty in Monty’s voice. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Monty slowly made his way down the hall, stopping mere centimeters from Percy. He towered over him, but the intimidation at his size was a feeling long forgotten by Percy’s nerves. Percy watched as Monty’s mouth twitched, almost as if he were trying to find the right thing to say. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“I, uhm, I want to do something for you, Percy.”

Percy’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Monty, a curious expression on his face. He brought a hand up to brush stray hairs away from his face so he could see Monty without distraction. “What would you like to do?”

He watched as Monty sucked in a breath. “You just… you make everything around here so beautiful- something that the castle hasn’t been in years. I want to thank you for making it feel like home again. And one of the things which made this castle feel like home was when my family would throw these incredible balls so I was wondering if, maybe, perhaps, you’d like to have our own little ball? With me?”

And _oh_. That was certainly not what Percy had been expecting. He was never able to firmly decide on the nature of Monty’s feelings for him, and Percy feared that the feelings which he had towards Monty would only cause a rift between the relationship they had managed to build up. However, with Monty standing in the dimness of the hall, asking Percy to a dance, it was as if a light of revelation shone right through him, and everything was made clear.

As excited goosebumps spread across his body, Percy wrapped the blanket tighter around him and his lips turned up into a bright smile. “I would love to.”

“Really?” Monty seemed surprised at his answer, and that only made it more endearing.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Great! I can have everything ready by tomorrow night, if that’s alright with you?”

Percy laughed softly and nodded. “Of course it is. I did have plans to see somebody though, but I’m sure he’ll understand if I can’t make it.”

Monty smiled back at him. “Yes, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

He turned to walk away when Percy spoke up. “But what should I wear?”

Monty turned his head back to look at him, a happy gleam in his eyes. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of that.”

The next day was spent worrying about the upcoming dance. Percy couldn’t remember the last time he had ever danced and he was sure that was because, to his knowledge, he hadn’t ever danced with anyone. Not only did he not know how to dance, but he knew that this thing between them, whatever it may be, had now transformed into something he didn’t quite understand. Attractions had always been more than physical attributes for him, and this was the first time someone had managed to catch the attention of his mind and soul. Months ago this idea was unfathomable to him; Percy had believed he’d be doomed forever to live life without ever finding a true connection. So no matter what happened after tonight, Percy would always be thankful to have found this relationship with Monty. He had showed him that his dreams were not impossible, and it was the greatest gift Monty had bestowed onto him.

Tonight would be interesting, to say the least.

He had spent the morning in the library, attempting to settle his nerves with some Shakespeare, but the anticipation made it impossible for him to concentrate. As his eyes skimmed past the words, he found himself unable to process their meanings. After a while he decided to give up, setting the book down and deciding instead to take a nice, hot bath. Surely that would help ease his anxieties.

As he settled into the warm water, he sank his body down until only his nose and everything above were untouched by the water. He then closed his eyes and thought back on the first time he had ever bathed here. It was ironic, in a way, because back then the vision that had stirred up of him being with Monty felt like a nightmare born out of lunacy. Now, the idea of being in the arms of the man who he had come to care about so deeply was the only thing which seemed to calm him. After the water turned cold, Percy decided it was time to face his fears.

When he entered his room, his eyes immediately traveled to the bed. Monty had kept to his promise about him not having to worry about what to wear because laid across the sheets was a suit, one which Percy had never seen before. It was an odd color, a bright shade of yellow, almost as if the fabric had been cut from the sun itself. He assumed it had come from deep in the recesses of Monty’s lavish wardrobe.

The sun was low in the sky, indicating that there was about an hour left before Monty was expecting him, so Percy took it upon himself to make himself appear princely, wanting to be deemed worthy enough to be dancing with an actual royal. And by the time he had fixed himself up, and talked down the growing nauseated feeling in his stomach, the sun had almost finished it’s decent, casting shades of orange and red into his room.

Much like the red coat, Monty seemed to have an affinity for selecting colors which complimented Percy perfectly. While the yellow had appeared gaudy from its place on the bed, once Percy had fit it onto himself, it was as if the entire ambiance of the suit had altered. The hues sat softly against his skin, contrasting the darkness of his eyes and making their color come to life as he stared back at his reflection. His hair was styled in a manner which allowed for a small bun at the back of his head, leaving the rest to hang down freely in waves.

“Do I look alright?” he asked as he admired himself in the mirror. He then let out a short laugh in disbelief. “God, I’ve officially gone mad. I’m talking to the furniture.”

 _No_ , he thought, _you’re only crazy if the furniture starts talking back._

After one last glance into the mirror, Percy sucked in a deep breath before exiting his room. When he made his way to top of the stairwell which connected his wing with the West Wing, he stopped dead in his tracks. Facing him across the way was Monty, standing tall and proud and donning a dark blue suit with golden accents along the collar, a perfect match to Percy’s golden attire. The dark shade of his clothing only made the blue of his eyes stand out prominently, and, as they slowly made their way down the staircases to meet each other in the center, Percy could see the adoration lighting up Monty’s eyes.

“You look… wow.”

Percy found himself blushing and ducking his head down shyly. He then looked up at Monty, his long eyelashes fluttering softly. “Thank you.”

There was a sudden touch under his chin as Monty lifted Percy’s face back up. “I mean it. You’re so beautiful, Percy.”

The fondness in Monty’s tone did nothing to suppress the flutter of butterflies inside his heart.

“You look amazing as well.”

“Me?”

Percy smiled and nodded as he reached up and carded his fingers through some of the fur on Monty’s cheek. “Yes, you. I’m a firm believer that someone’s personality is what defines their beauty, which makes you beautiful. And I hope that for tonight at least you can believe that.”

“You’re incredible, do you know that?”

“You say that now, but you haven’t seen my dancing.”

There was a deep rumble from Monty as he laughed. He then held out his arm which Percy gladly took in his hand, and let himself be guided down the staircase into the ballroom. When Monty had said that he could get everything in order by tonight, Percy had not expected the result to be as fantastically extraordinary as the sight before him.

The ballroom had somehow been restored to what he would assume was its former glory. The chandelier hanging above the center of the room was polished and glimmering in the light which it was exuding. There was not a cobweb to be seen, and if Percy hadn’t known any better, he’d claim that this was an entirely different room than the one he had stumbled through when he first had come into the castle all that time ago. In the light, he could now clearly see the angelic depictions on the painted ceiling, and it was as if Michelangelo himself was to thank for the grand artistry.

The shock must have shown on his face, because when he turned to look up at Monty, he was met with an amused smirk.

“It’s quite modest, is it not?” he asked as he gestured towards the room. “This isn’t even the grandest ballroom I’ve ever seen.”

“Show off.”

“Shall we dance?” Monty asked, ignoring Percy’s jest.

“But there’s no music.”

“Would you like to know a little secret?” Monty asked. “There’s bits of magic hidden throughout the castle. When I was cursed, some of the magic did not affect me, instead it spread throughout these halls.”

“Then how come I’ve never seen it?”

“But you have, darling.”

Percy turned to look at him and shook his head. “No-”

“Yes. How do you suppose I get all my meals? How I managed to get the suit I’m wearing now?”

Percy opened his mouth to reply, but was left with it hanging open in dumbfounded surprise when he realized that Monty was correct. There was no reasonable explanation for how someone trapped in this castle would have been able to acquire the means necessary for providing meals each day, or fabrics to create clothing suitable for someone his size.

“I don’t understand… How can that happen?”

Monty shrugged. “How could _I_ happen? Magic is something which is better to be observed rather than understood.”

“So the music?” Percy asked. He watched as Monty waved his hand in the direction of the piano sitting in the corner of the room, just like it had on the night of the curse. Soft music began playing, slowly filling the room despite having no maestro at it’s keys. Percy’s eyes went wide with wonder as he witnessed the magic firsthand.

“This isn’t possible,” he breathed out. Then again, the idea of him caring so deeply for the man beside him had seemed to be impossible when they first met, but how quickly the impossible can turn into a beautiful reality.

“May I have this dance?” Monty asked.

Percy nodded and took Monty’s hand, letting Monty guide him to the center of the ballroom. When he felt a large paw on his back, Percy reached up and placed his own hand on Monty’s shoulder, lifting the other to hold onto Monty’s free paw. As the music played on in the background, Percy found himself lost in Monty’s eyes as he led him in a slow dance. They moved gracefully together, as if this were not their first time. It always amazed Percy how easily he and Monty could fall into the routine of anything without missing a beat—  it was as if in another life they had been together, and this was simply their souls reconnecting once again.

Somewhere during the dance, Percy’s head had found itself against Monty’s chest, listening to the steady thrumming of his heart. As the music faded out, Percy found himself unwilling to pull away. They continued to sway together in the silence until Monty slowly unraveled himself from Percy’s touch. Without a word, he grabbed Percy’s hand in his and walked them out onto the balcony which connected to the ballroom.

The sky was littered with stars as the moon cast a soft light over the blanket of snow on the ground. Percy walked up to the railing and found himself sighing deeply as he watched the twinkle of the stars above him. Soon, he felt the familiar warmth of Monty’s presence beside him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Percy replied as he turned his head to face Monty.

“Are you happy here?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I mean, are you truly happy?”

Percy sighed again as his shoulders lifted into a shrug. “I just wish I knew if Felicity were alright without me.”

“Felicity, that’s your friend, correct? The one you came to save?”

Percy nodded.

“I had a sister named Felicity,” Monty admitted. “She was barely a child when the curse happened. My parents took off with her and I haven’t seen her since.”

“Oh, Monty. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine…”

“I can’t ever see my sister again, but you—  you can see your friend.”

A bubble of excitement rose inside of him at the prospect of being able to see Felicity. He never had known if she had made it back safely all those months ago. Closure would be a great relief for his soul.  
  
They were back inside the West Wing, and Monty had been right before. The more Percy entered the space, the less daunting it appeared.

“This mirror, it will allow you to see anything you wish.”

Percy slowly grasped his hand around the handle as Monty placed a single mirror into his hand. For someone who had just learned the existence of magic, he was still wary when it came to the idea of an all-seeing mirror. But if this mirror was the key to seeing Felicity again, he would not question it’s abilities.

“I’d like to see Felicity, please.”

He watched in awe as the reflection of himself melted away and gave way to the sight of the woods he recognized as being on the outskirts of his village. An audible gasp of horror escaped his lips as he watched Felicity struggle against the wind and cold as she trudged her way through a snow covered path. Her face was pale and breaths shaky as her body wobbled slightly before completely collapsing onto the ground.

“No!” he cried out.

“What is it? What do you see?”

“She’s in the woods. She—  she’s sick, Monty! She’s just a child, she won’t survive out there!” He gripped the mirror tightly in fear as the image slowly faded back into a reflection of his terrified face.

“You must go to her.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You must go to her. Save her.”

“But the promise I made-”

“You’re free.”

 _Free_. That word hit hard inside his chest, for Percy had long forgotten the fact that he was a prisoner here. He looked and saw that Monty’s warm expression from earlier had turned cold and unreadable again.

“Go,” he whispered.

When Percy moved to hand back the mirror, Monty shook his head and forced it back into his hands. “Take it, so you’ll always have a way to look back and remember me.”

“Remember you? Monty, I could never forget you.”

“Just go, okay? Please, just… go.” The last word was broken off, barely a whisper.

Percy leaned forward and enveloped Monty into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

And then he ran.

* * *

The moment Percy had run off, it was as if all of the light and happiness he had brought into the castle ran off with him, leaving nothing but emptiness and sorrow. It was as if he had never been there at all.

He had told him to go.

The truth of his feelings had been threatening to spill out instead, but he knew it was useless, so Monty had told him to go. If Percy had known how Monty really felt, he wouldn’t have stayed. Percy himself had brought up the promise he had made to remain in the castle as a prisoner. That mindset had probably never left his mind throughout all the moments they spent together. Every look or touch was all a facade meant to mask the dwelling repulsion Percy most likely still felt towards him.

He stepped out onto the balcony, gripping it tightly, as Percy's figure came into view below him. “I love you.”

As the whisper of words released into the air, there was nothing. There was no magic burst of light, no pain inside of him signalling the changing of his form. He was still a beast, and he would be for evermore. He may have finally learned to love another, but as Monty remained unchanged from the curse, it appeared that his affections were not returned.  

He looked back at the rose, which now held only a single petal. It was over. A painful roar ripped through his lungs, making every window in the room shudder in its wake. As he turned back to look out from the balcony, he could now barely make out Percy running towards the gates—  away from him, never to return. Monty could only stand still, unable to find the strength to look away.

He had been a fool to believe that Percy could ever love him back.    



	5. Happily Ever After

The dark of the night elicited an ominous feeling from within Percy as he made his way through the woods. By the time he reached Felicity’s body, he could see the effects of the frost physically taking over her body. With her face pale and lips a soft blue, he knew that if he did not get her to safety soon, she would not make it past the night. Regaining his freedom had meant losing Monty, and he would not let himself lose Felicity as well. He cursed himself for not being aware of her poorly executed rescue mission beforehand. He had become so wrapped up in his new life that any thought of returning to Felicity had hardly crossed his mind anymore.

As he lifted up her freezing body, the only sign of breath left in her was the short puffs of air escaping her lips as she slowly struggled to breathe. It proved to be a great effort bringing her back from the woods, but the adrenaline coursing through him gave Percy the strength necessary to carry her through. As they broke through the trees into the streets of town, it became easier to carry her back home. And for the second time in months, Felicity’s homecoming was met with a hysterical mother who had feared that she would never see her daughter again.

Upon seeing Felicity’s sickly state, her mother swiftly took her from Percy’s arms and tucked her into bed. Every blanket available in the house was placed over her chilled body. Once it was certain that she was warm and safe, her mother exited the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“Can I see her?” Percy asked from where he stood in the hallway.

Her mother shook her head, and if she was shocked by Percy’s sudden return after months of his suspicious absence, she didn’t show it.

“Thank you, though.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she looked towards Percy. “For bringing her back.” The unreadable expression on her face remained intact.

Percy’s lips turned up into a small smile; it was hard to muster genuine joy when his best friend was lying sick in the room just steps from him. He couldn’t help but blame himself for her current state. If he had tried harder in the beginning to run away, she never would have felt the need to come back for him. He was disgusted with himself, especially at the fact that, even with Felicity falling ill, he did not regret staying back at the castle—  even after his attempt to escape all that time ago. His only regret was that he did not try to find a way to contact her, to give her peace of mind knowing that he was safe and well.  

“She’s a tough girl,” he replied. “She’ll be up and back to normal by tomorrow. I know it.”

Her mother sighed at that. “Yes, I know. She never has been an easy daughter to rein in. Sometimes I find myself wondering where she got that from, and then I realize it must be from her other parents.”

“Do you remember much about them?” Percy questioned as he leaned against the wall, his voice hushed.  

“No, I don’t believe there was much to remember. All I know is that they were in quite a hurry. They mentioned to me about needing to keep Felicity safe—  away from something—  but I never caught on what it was. They were gone before I could ask.”

There was an offbeat twist in his gut at that, causing Percy to perk up. “She’s been with you, say, ten years? Is that correct?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

_Holy shit._

When Monty had divulged earlier about a sister whom he hadn’t seen since the curse, also named Felicity, Percy had thought the two mere coincidences. However, if his Felicity had been brought here on that same night…  

 _There’s no way,_ he thought, _but the circumstances of it couldn’t be all coincidental, could they?_

There was a horrible feeling in his gut telling him that he knew the answer already. And if this gut feeling inside him was correct, there was a good possibility that his best friend was actually Monty’s long-lost sister; a _princess_. There was only but one way to make certain:

“So that night, can you remember anything else about it? Anything strange, out of the ordinary?”

“Well now that you mention it… After that night there were rumors around the village that something had taken place at the King’s palace.”

“The King’s palace? How have I never heard of this before?” Percy questioned.

“Nobody’s been able to prove its truth. Our village hasn’t had a King in quite some time— not after the royal family disappeared. Just like that!” She snapped her fingers. “They were gone.”

“But what happened? What do the rumors claim to have taken place?”

She looked over her shoulder at the bedroom door before leading Percy into the kitchen, supposedly to give Felicity more privacy.

“People claim an evil presence entered the palace the night they disappeared. There were stories passed around that the family became cursed— something about the prince and a monster.”

“Oh my god,” Percy breathed, his heart clenching tightly in his chest. The room suddenly became suffocating with revelations, and filling his lungs with the air necessary to breathe seemed almost impossible.   

Felicity’s mother must have mistaken his statement as pity for she shook her head in disagreement. “While I do not condone these rumors, from what I’ve heard about their son, and how he conducted himself, he deserved it. If the rumors were true, after all.”

Percy’s voice caught in his throat. He was well aware, from Monty’s stories, that many people had not taken a liking to him, but to hear someone who didn’t even know him speak so lowly of him? To wish this awful curse upon him? How positively sickening it was.

He forced himself to breathe in slowly before finally finding his voice. “What happened next?”

“Some say he killed his family and ran off. Others claim that he’s still in that castle.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s all foolishness. There were only a select number of our villagers present that night and shortly after they all ran off. Some say that’s because they were frightened by the ‘evil’ they had seen; others claim it was because they were laughed out of town for their nonsense. What actually happened that night, I doubt anyone will ever truly know. Now, why you seem to think that my Felicity had anything to do with that night is beyond me.”

“You don’t think it’s odd— the timing of you being given her and the royal family disappearing?”

“I think that there are many coincidences in this world, Percy, and maybe if you got your head out of those books you’d realize that logic is the only truth to life. Magic and the like— those are fictional. They’ve no place in the real world.”

“So how can you explain the vanishing of the royal family?”  
“Perhaps the Montagues ran off in shame,” she said as she waved her hand in dismissal. “My assumption is that something happened at the party with their son— something which ashamed them so deeply they thought it would be best to run rather than have it exposed. Perhaps it was something to do with one of his lovers. I heard he was rather fond of women _and_ men. Quite a little scoundrel if you ask me.”

Percy bit his lip to keep from arguing. His own sexuality was not something he kept hidden, and he knew that she was well aware of it. He was familiar with people making brash comments in his presence, but the implication that he was less than, simply for who he was attracted to, never hurt any less the more he was taunted for it. Upon tasting the faintness of blood, he let his lip go from in between his teeth. Percy wanted to simply write the comment off as her speaking before thinking; optimism was necessary for survival, a lesson he had been forced to learn years ago.

“Maybe the prince was just misunderstood,” he murmured.

“Or maybe you should stop digging your nose into matters which are no longer relevant. Don’t think Felicity hasn’t tried to tell me where you’ve been all this time, Percy. How many hours have I spent listening to her go on and on about a monster in that castle holding you hostage? See, if it weren’t for those insidious rumors flying about she never would have gotten such outrageous ideas. I love her with all my heart, Percy, but there’s only so much madness a mother can take before she has to take matters into her own hands.”

Percy watched her as she began wringing her hands nervously.

“I’m sorry— what exactly are you taking into your own hands?”

Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door.

“Could you please be a dear and get that for me?” she asked. Not wanting to be rude, as he was a guest in her home, Percy complied and walked to the door. When he opened it, the queasiness in his gut twisted into a feeling of absolute dread.

“Adam?”

It was abundantly clear that Percy was not the person whom he had been expecting. He watched as Adam’s eyes opened wide with shock.

“Percy?!” He then stepped forward, causing Percy to step back, retreating further into the cottage. He continued to step towards Percy, not stopping until Percy’s steps backwards had led him right up against a wall. There was nowhere for him to go. “I was so terribly afraid that I’d never see your beautiful face again.” He lifted up a gloved hand to rest gently on Percy’s cheek, holding his face in place as Adam’s eyes trailed over his features.

“Can’t say I felt the same,” Percy shot back. “Let me go.”

Surprisingly, Adam took a step back, dropping his hand from Percy’s face. “It really has been so long. Tell me, love, were you really locked away?”

“Yes.”

“Liar!”

“What?”

Adam turned his head towards the opened door and, with a single nod, beckoned a group of uniformed men inside. “Take her away.”

“Take who?” Percy asked fearfully.

“Why, your little friend, of course. All the time you’ve been gone she hasn’t shut her mouth about you being taken by some monster. Her mother finally came to us for help, unsure of how to get through to her poor, misguided daughter. But apparently the threat of being sent away pushed her over the edge so she ran off to go ‘rescue’ you; she was very determined to prove her point, you see. It seems you have impeccable timing, though, as you certainly have saved us the trouble of searching for her. Why, if it weren’t for you, it seems as if we’d be taking her away to a morgue instead. We most certainly thank you.”

As Adam’s words sank in, Percy stood frozen in horror as he watched them drag Felicity from her bed out of the cottage. She was so weak still that she couldn’t even fight back. Her body was limp in their grasp.

“Can’t you see she’s sick?” Percy questioned as he gestured to her.

“Her physical ailments will heal in time, however, her mother isn’t so sure about her mental condition.”

As the scene in front of him transpired, out of his peripheral view Percy could see Felicity’s mother standing in the corner, as if she were trying to distance herself from the situation unfolding.

“You… you’re supposed to take care of her!” he yelled angrily as he turned towards her.  

When her eyes met his, he felt nothing but iciness. “You know I want nothing but the best for her, and this is what’s best, Percy,” she replied. “Believe me when I say I’ve thought long and hard about it.”

“You’re sending her to a madhouse! How is that supposed to help?”

“There is another way to settle this,” Adam cut in. “I think I may be able to persuade the gentlemen to let her go— on one condition, of course.”

“What?” Percy asked desperately.

A smirk came across Adam’s face as he stared Percy down. “Marry me.”

Percy’s heart sunk in his chest. This wasn’t about Felicity at all; this was all some sick, twisted plan conjured up to gain his hand in marriage.

“Never.”

He then shoved past Adam and ran outside only to see Felicity trapped in the caged asylum carriage. He ran to her, grabbing onto her exposed hands gripping the bars. Flashbacks to the tower in the castle flooded his mind, but he forced them away.

He gently squeezed her hands. “I’m going to get you out, okay?”

“Percy,” she breathed. “You know I’m not crazy. Don’t let them take me. Please.” Her voice was hoarse and quiet, yet a cry for help had never rung louder in his ears.

He then turned to face the crowd which had gathered around them now. Among the faces was his own uncle, who kept an indifferent expression as he watched Percy. If he had missed Percy at all during his time gone, it didn’t show. Perhaps he was glad to have been relieved of his bastard nephew; it certainly would’ve saved him the grief he received for taking him in.   

“How inhumane are you to let them lock away a sick girl?” Percy called out to them.   
“She’s sick, alright,” declared a man, hidden somewhere deep within the crowd. “She’s always raving about a beast. Said he had you trapped.”

“She’s not wrong.”

“You’re just as crazy as her!”

“No, I have proof!”

Gasps rang out throughout the crowd at the proclamation.  

“What proof do you have?”

Percy reached for a satchel he had taken along with him from the castle. In his haste to leave, he had taken but one item.

“Show me Monty,” he ordered. As the mirror flashed vibrantly, he held it out towards the villagers. An image of Monty storming the castle came to life, and the villagers watched as he fiercely crashed into every last bit of furniture in his way, smashing them to splinters. Monty hadn’t shown violence in so long; Percy did not even recognize the man whom the mirror was reflecting. His heart ached upon realization that he was the source of this pain inciting this rage inside of Monty, his brute ways returning upon Percy’s absence in the castle.  

Murmurs erupted from the crowd, the voices becoming angrier. Percy realized all too late that his proof did nothing to aide the situation, instead, the image of Monty had only spiraled the crowd’s emotions into outrage.  

“Is he dangerous?”

“Oh no. He’d never hurt anyone,” Percy assured them, though the looks he was receiving proved the villagers were not convinced. “Please, I know he looks vicious but he’s really kind, and gentle. He’s… he’s my friend.”

_He’s so much more than that._

Adam scoffed as he stepped forward and ripped the mirror from Percy’s hands. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you had _feelings_ for this monster.”

Percy narrowed his eyes as he glared up at the man in front of him. “He’s no monster, Adam. You are.” He then turned back to face the crowd. “Please believe me! He’s harmless, really!”

“Throw him in with the girl.” Adam’s voice was dark and menacing and before Percy could find the time to react, three pairs of hands were on him, forcing him into the carriage next to Felicity. His heart hammered in his chest as Adam stepped closer, locking eyes with him.

“Such a pretty face wasted on such a pathetic boy. It’ll be a shame you won’t be around to see your precious friend’s head mounted on my wall.”

“No!” Percy cried as Adam turned away. With the mirror in one hand, he reached for a lit torch in the other.

“These two have put our village in danger of the wrath of this monster. We’re not safe until he’s dead. I say we go out and kill the beast! Who’s with me?”

Cheers of support erupted around them and Percy watched in horror as the townspeople began creating torches of their own and grabbing whatever they found which could be utilized as a weapon. Instead of freeing Felicity, Percy realized with horror that he had created a mob; a mob he was powerless to stop. The villagers parted ways, allowing for Adam to march his way through to the front of the crowd, leading them off towards the woods.

“Please, don’t!” Percy yelled after them, but it was too late. He could only sit and watch as the people he once considered his neighbors marched off to kill the one man he loved. All except a few, however. Left alone after the mob set out, there was a band of men standing behind whom Percy did not recognize. Their attire dictated that they were not of this area, and he supposed they were passerbys.

“Hey!” Percy called over to them. The man assumed to be the leader turned his head towards the carriage and studied Percy for a few moments. He deemed Percy to not be a threat, apparently, for he made his way over to them.

“Who are you?” Percy questioned. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’ve never seen you, either,” the man replied curtly.

“I’ve been away.”

“So it appears.”

“You’re not going off with the others?” Percy asked.

The man shook his head. “There’s nothing in it for us. Why should we bother? Besides, I don’t care to associate myself with men of that nature. Lucky for you, though, I’ve always considered myself a good judge of character and you seem to be an honest man.”

“I am, I swear to it. Everything I’ve said has been nothing but truth.”

“So this monster-”

“Not a monster,” Percy cut in.

“So this thing whom you speak so highly of, is he truly harmless?”

Percy nodded. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone. Will you help us? Please?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“My eternal gratitude?” Percy tried. The unbudging frown on the man’s face was all the answer he needed. “Fine. The man who they’re going off to kill, he’s a prince. If you help us save his life, I can assure that you will be rewarded.”

“A prince?” the man and Felicity asked at the same time.

“Yes.”

“You have my word, _if_ you can ensure me a reward.”

“I promise.”

The man nodded at Percy then gestured for one of his men to come to them. In his hands he wielded a large ax.

“Break them out.”

Two heavy swings later, the lock to their carriage was broken. Percy gently helped Felicity out before exiting as well.

“Tell us the way, and then you get your friend to safety,” the man ordered.

Percy nodded and began describing to them the quickest way to the castle. They would be outnumbered by Adam’s men, but being outnumbered was an advantage when you were maneuvering through the woods. They would be able to take a quicker, yet more intense route, and arrive at the castle before Adam could destroy every last thing Percy loved.

Before the man could set off, however, Percy held out his arm to stop him.

“Will you at least tell me your name so I know who to thank afterwards?” Percy asked.

“Name’s Scipio.”

“And what are you doing around here?”

“Do you want to ask questions or do you want me to save your friend?”

“Right. You should go.”

“As should you. She needs rest.” He nodded in Felicity’s direction.  

As Scipio and his men went off, Percy turned to Felicity and wrapped an arm around her.

“Come on, I’m taking you to my house. It’s safer there.”  

“So it appears I’ve missed a lot with you,” she spoke quietly as they made their way to Percy’s cottage.

“It appears you need to regain your strength.”

“I was trying to save you.”

“I know.”

“But it sounds like you didn’t need saving.”

Percy couldn’t help the fond smile which crossed his lips as he thought back to his times with Monty. “No. I’ll explain everything once you’re in bed, okay?”

The idea of where to begin in his explanation of the past months stumped him, but after he tucked Felicity into his bed, he sat down by her side, ready to try and make sense of the senseless. He first attempted to stall by asking Felicity questions about how she was feeling, but she saw right through his poor attempts.   

“Tell me.”

“Always so bossy,” Percy joked softly. She rolled her eyes.

“You promised!”

And so he told her everything. From the day after she had left up until his and Monty’s last moments together. He watched with amusement as her eyes gave way to wonder and disbelief as he regaled the stories of what had occurred— from the wolf attack to the library to their quaint little dance just moments before he had been set free. There was one omission from the story, however. He did not disclose to her the nature of his feelings for Monty. She was a girl of logic and reason; it would be rather difficult to explain the way his heart had grown to love Monty more than anything. He knew how she viewed him— how everyone viewed him. To unaware strangers, he was a horribly hideous monster, but they didn’t know his heart like Percy did. They were not aware of the pain he was tortured with, or how he became a changed man as he slowly learned to overcome his unfortunate past. Under his exterior, he was still but a man; a man whom had endured years of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of the people made to protect and love him.     

“Percy,” she said softly as he finished, sitting up so she could reach over and place a hand over his. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“What?”

“I’m not a fool, Perce. I saw your face when you were talking about him. Look, I know there’s a lot that I don’t understand, even moreso now because honestly? Everything you just told me defies all I knew about the world— which is quite a lot, may I remind you. But I can tell that you care about him, so you need to go to him. If my life were in danger, I’d want you there to rescue me.”

“Your life _was_ in danger, that’s why he let me go.”

“But I’m fine now.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“You care about him, he obviously cares about you. Go to him.”

Percy looked at her curiously. “How do you know he feels the same?”

“God, you really are hopeless sometimes, Percy. Look, I’m fine, okay? Go!”  

He wasn’t going to wait for her to tell him again. So, for the second time that night, he ran.

* * *

 

After the burst of anger rupturing inside him settled, Monty found himself back into the dark confines of his bedroom. He perched out on the balcony, unphased by the cold air, as he watched the gates. The moonlight danced off the blanket of snow encompassing it as they stood off in the distance, a beautiful, shadowy reminder of his exclusion from the world he had sent Percy back to. A part of him hoped that they’d open again, revealing Percy coming back to him— coming back home. However, with each passing minute, the small sliver of hope shrank away until his heart was hollow once more. He had thought love was the cure to end his suffering, but what he hadn’t prepared for was the pain destroying him inside at the omission of love in return.

The thought of not being loved by the person who you would give the world for was enough to alter any heart into a cold, icy tomb. But Monty couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Percy— no, he was angry at himself. Angry that he hadn’t done enough to change his ways; angry that he hadn’t gotten past his pride sooner, because if he had been kind from the start, maybe it would’ve been different for them. Perhaps he wouldn’t be sitting alone, suffocating in the darkness which had taken control inside of him once more.

He continued to stare out at the gate as a movement in the distance caught his eye. The apathy which now plagued his body allowed him to look on imperviously as the gates slowly creaked opened. There was a slight, erratic jump to his heart upon hearing the groan of the rusted iron, but upon seeing an angry mob in place of where Percy should have been, his heart slowed back to a passive thrum as he silently watched them march their way up to the castle’s door.

“Take whatever you find,” he heard an unfamiliar voice order. “But the beast is mine.”

 _This is it,_ he realized solemnly. _This is the day I die._  

Even with the imminent threat looming over his head, Monty remained still. A life without Percy was not one worth living, and if these men were going to kill him, they’d be doing him a favor by ending his suffering. However, there was an unexpected clash sounding from below- a clash signalling opposition. There was someone here, _fighting for him_. This realization had him standing up and swiftly moving out of his room. If someone deemed his life valuable enough to try and save, he refused to go down without a fight.

Now curious to see the intruders to his home, Monty slinked his way through the shadows, peeking around the corner of the stairs to witness the brawl taking place. Men— all unfamiliar to Monty’s memory— were fighting. Some carried swords, others donned pitchforks and torches. The winner of the battle was unclear as it was pure chaos. Monty found himself growing angry at the sight before him. The castle had grown to become a place of solace for him and Percy, and now these outsiders were tainting the memories stored within the walls with their violence.

As he surveyed the scene before him, his locked eyes with one of the men and it was all too late that he realized his cover had been blown. The shadows hadn’t been enough to hide him away.

He growled in response, baring all his fangs, but the man did not flinch at all. Instead, Monty watched as he reached down towards a gun by his side. Monty quickly turned and took off up the stairs, this time in the direction of the many towers which loomed over his property. If he were to escape, they would be his only hope.

His animal speed proved to be faster, for it took some time for the man with the murderous gaze to catch up at the top of the chosen tower for his getaway. Monty found himself pressed against the wall, a large window open to his side, leading to a drop onto the roof of the castle where the gargoyles perched in their stony places. The perfect escape.

“Hello, beast,” the man sneered. Monty took a small step closer towards the window. He watched as the man once more reached for his gun. In the seconds it took for the gun to raise, Monty leapt out the window, landing with a thud so powerful the gargoyles shook in their place. As he regained his balance, Monty began stalking towards the edge. He saw that from his current position, he could easily jump onto the balcony of the West Wing, allowing him to return to safety.

Suddenly, there was a resounding bang immediately followed by searing pain coursing through his back. Monty fell to his knees as a thunderous roar erupted into the air. He turned his head to see that he was no longer alone on the roof, and his shooter was slowly approaching him, the gun aimed at him once more. It was clear this was to be the fatal blow.

“Did you care for him, beast?” Adam taunted. “Were you in _love_ with him? Did you honestly think Percy would want you when he had someone like me?”

Monty stayed silent. The sheer agony of his wound displaced any will inside of him to fight. He saw the gun raised to his head, but the next shot never came.

“No! Adam, please! Don’t!”

It was Percy’s voice which drifted up to where they were.

Monty’s head turned quickly, looking out and seeing that, yes, it really was Percy. Oh how sweet the sight of him felt! Any semblance of pain inside him vanished as he watched Percy run towards the castle. Percy had come back, and along with him, the light which had vanished from within Monty burned brightly once again.  

With the newfound hope budding inside of him, Monty regained his strength and stood up, towering over Adam. He hoped the murderous feeling raging inside of him reflected in his eyes. He wanted Adam to feel the horror of what was awaiting him. He then reached forward, yanking Adam up by his shirt and shifting his body to dangle over the edge. He saw Adam glance down at the lethal drop below. When their eyes met again, it wasn’t fear that he saw on Adam’s face; it was anger.    

“You were going to kill me,” Monty growled. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t return the favor.”

“I don’t know what spell you have Percy under, but once you kill me I doubt he’ll want anything to do with a monster like you,” Adam spit back.

_Monster._

Adam’s words were nothing but truth. If Monty dropped him, leaving Adam helpless as he plunged to his death below, he would only solidify his place as the monster he had spent months proving he wasn’t. He wasn’t going to give the universe any more reasons to despise his existence, no. Instead, Monty slowly brought Adam back around onto the rooftop, placing him steadily on his feet. He leaned in closer and growled deeply before uttering a simple warning.

“Get. Out.”

The noise born from the chaos within the castle had died out long ago as the mob had succumbed to Scipio’s team, running off in defeat. Adam was now all alone, and his fate rested in whether or not he took heed of the warning. He seemed to favor his life, for he backed off, hands in the air in an admittance of defeat. It was then that Monty allowed himself to let out a deep sigh as he was overcome with exhaustion from his wound. As Adam slowly continued to walk away, Percy’s voice called out from behind him. Monty turned, his heart racing in his chest, and saw that Percy was now waiting on the balcony below, a frightened expression etched onto his beautiful face.

“Percy! Stay there!” Monty called out. With the last ounce of strength inside of him, he launched himself off the roof, successfully landing right in front of Percy.

An explosive sound echoed from the rooftop as two more bullets discharged. Monty’s body twisted in blistering agony as the bullets ripped through him. Instantly, his body collapsed to the cold ground.

* * *

 

The world stopped as Percy watched Monty fall. His heart ceased to beat as he dropped on his knees next to his body, tears immediately spilling over his eyes. Things were not supposed to get this out of hand— that was never how it was supposed to be.

On his way here, Percy had formulated a plan on how he would finally confess to Monty the way he’d been feeling. But now, as he watched blood seep out in a scarlet pool from underneath Monty’s body, it appeared he’d be lucky if he could manage to say his goodbyes in time.

He gently carded his fingers through the fur on Monty’s cheek just as he he knew he liked. The more he tried to hold in his tears to put on a brave face, the more they spilled over; everything felt depressingly surreal. Here, he had finally found someone whom he loved and they were being ripped away right in his arms. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this situation was fair. Percy wanted to scream, to curse angrily into the night, but he knew it would do no good. Instead, he comforted Monty as he watched his breathing slow, his lungs taking greater pauses in between each breath.

“You…  You came back.”

Percy sniffled and brought a hand up to wipe at his eyes. “Of course I came back. Now you can’t leave me, okay?”

“Percy,” Monty whispered. He slowly reached a paw up to cup Percy’s cheek.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t— Don’t do that. Don’t talk like you’re dying, Monty.”

“Darling…”

With that one word, it was as if all the air was punched out of his lungs, and Percy found himself struggling to breathe. He could barely see Monty through the tears clouding his eyes.

“Please don’t leave me,” Percy choked out.

“It’s okay.” Monty’s words were coming out slower and Percy could hear how labored his breathing had become. He reached up and wiped his eyes once more before looking down to find that Monty’s eyes had started turning glassy. “At least… At least I got to see you… one last time…”

“No!” Percy cried as he watched Monty’s eyes flutter shut. His chest stilled; there was no more labored breathing, no more struggled words being spoken.

He flung himself over Monty’s body, hugging him closely and willing for it all to go away, for him to wake up from this nightmare. He closed his eyes, hoping that once they opened again, he’d be in the library with Monty, listening as he read to him. However, when his eyes reopened, he was faced with the harsh truth that this was a nightmare from which he would never be able to escape. Monty was gone.   

“Come back! I need you to come back to me,” he choked out in between sobs as he remained gripping onto Monty’s stilled body. “I love you.”

In the room behind them, the last petal detached itself from its host and slowly drifted downwards. As it fluttered to the bottom of its casing and evaporated into a thick dust, the clock chimed loudly. A new day had arrived.

As Percy continued to cry over Monty’s body, something strange began to occur. The tears falling from his eyes splattered into a glorious display of light upon hitting the ground, and suddenly, it began to snow. However, as Percy looked up towards the sky with teary eyes, he quickly realized that it was not snow at all- it was rays of light shooting down towards them, as if they were fallen stars, crashing into Monty’s body. He scooted away from the sight, unsure— and a bit frightened— of what was occurring.

He watched in terrified amazement as Monty’s body began to slowly lift into the air. There was a golden luminescence emanating from him as he levitated above the ground. Percy could only watch helplessly as beams of light began to slowly erupt from inside of him, soon enveloping Monty in a cloud of its splendor.

 _Magic,_ Percy realized. _This wasn’t light at all. It was pure magic._

Percy shielded his eyes as the radiance grew brighter around Monty’s now upturned body. Fear coursed through Percy’s veins as he sat, helpless, watching Monty’s body writhing within the magical flare. Suddenly, the faint sight of hands— _human hands_ — came into view. His heart beat in quick, shocked pulses when the pieces of it all fell together: Monty was changing back.

The spell had been broken. But how?

As the light began to fade, Percy unshielded his eyes and slowly stood from his spot. He watched as Monty’s human figure slowly lowered until he was firmly back on his feet. His back was turned to Percy and, not wanting to startle him, he kept his distance. Percy instantly recognized the blonde curls from the portrait hanging in the West Wing, except now they fell in an unruly fashion around his soft features.

Percy wasn’t exactly well versed on how the curse operated. It was most certainly Monty standing in front of him, but would Monty remember his time as a beast? Would he remember Percy? He hoped to god that he remembered him. A life without Monty in it was a life fated to be dull and void.

He shifted on his feet nervously as he watched Monty examine his own body, first his hands, then he saw as Monty looked down and wiggled his feet. His behavior would seem quite odd if one wasn’t aware that this man had just been trapped inside the body of an animal for a decade. Watching him, Percy realized that Monty hadn’t lied when he told Percy that he was smaller than him in stature. Even with the distance between them, Percy could see that Monty was more petit than himself. It was quite adorable, actually, but he knew Monty would most certainly kill him if he ever found out Percy had used the word adorable to describe any aspect of him.

As Monty began to turn around, it was as if time stopped. Percy’s heart pounded in his chest as they locked eyes, and he felt fresh tears starting to form. He sucked in a shaky breath as he slowly stepped forward, not stopping until he was face to face with Monty. There was something in Monty’s eyes— those familiar, beautiful blue eyes— that was more than simple recognition. His eyes were alive with bewilderment.

“Percy, you broke the spell.” It was the first time Percy had ever heard Monty’s true voice, and the smoothness of it sent chills through his body. His name had never sounded more beautiful than when it came from Monty’s lips.  

Percy let out a shaky laugh and nodded. The cold sting of tears running down his cheek was growing to become an all-too familiar feeling that night. “You’re alive.”

Monty took one step closer, their bodies barely brushing up against each other. Percy stood still as Monty raised a hand, brushing Percy’s hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear.

“You love me.”

A simple statement, and all of a sudden it was clear. Percy felt like such a bloody idiot. Out of all the fairy tales he had read, the answer to breaking the curse had been written into those stories. He had known all along, he’d just been too blind to see it:

True love.

Percy nodded. “More than anything.”

“There’s something that I’ve been wanting to do for so long,” Monty whispered as he leaned in closer. The question was in the way his eyes flickered down to Percy’s lips for the briefest moment. The answer was the way Percy closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss for the very first time.

“You know,” Monty murmured as he pulled away slightly, his lips brushing up against Percy’s, “if I still had my super strength I would lift you in the air and spin you around.”

Percy lifted his hands to gently cup Monty’s face, smiling softly. “Shut up,” he whispered before pulling him in once more for another kiss.

As someone who had never kissed another before, Percy couldn’t help but worry if he was doing an adequate job. The way in which Monty wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him close as he passionately kissed back, however, was a pretty damn good indicator that he wasn’t as horrid as he feared.

It wasn’t until a few moments later when Monty finally pulled away, shivering. “I’ve forgotten how cold the winter actually is,” he commented.

Percy finally took the time to look over Monty, realizing he was dressed only in the tatters of the clothing he had be wearing before he transformed. Percy rolled his eyes in a fond manner before taking Monty’s hand and guiding him into his room. He watched as Monty looked around, as if seeing his surroundings for the first time.  

“Wow, who decorated this place? It looks like somebody died in here.”

Percy rolled his eyes once more as he squeezed Monty’s hand. He didn’t have to see him to know that he was smirking. “You’re a pain, did you know that?”

“You love me, though.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Monty laughed loudly at that as he turned to look at Percy.

“You love me,” he repeated, a serious look on his face.

Percy blushed and nodded. “I think I’ve made that very clear.”

“After I let you go… I said that I loved you, but I didn’t change back. I assumed that meant you didn’t feel the same.”  

“Of course I felt the same. How could I not? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“So you didn’t just want me for my pretty face?” Monty teased.

“Your pretty face is just a plus to everything else. But please can we go back to where you said that you loved me?” Percy raised a quizzical brow at him. And for the first time, Percy had the absolute delight of seeing Monty’s cheeks turn pink with a blush.

“I love you,” he whispered, and it was the first time Percy had ever heard those words directed towards himself. The soft flutter inside his chest accompanied the pink on his complexion. Before he could pull Monty in for another wonderful kiss, there was a slight commotion echoing throughout the castle.

Scipio was still here, he realized, and Percy had made a promise to him of which he needed to maintain his end.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked to Monty. “So, you know the man who tried to kill you?”

“You mean the one who did kill me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m familiar with him.”

“Well, you see, I sort of… bribed some men to come up and fight against him.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I may have disclosed that you were a prince and would give them a reward for saving your life?”

Monty laughed in disbelief. “Bribery? And you said you wouldn’t have been a troublemaker with me.”

* * *

 

_Percy broke the spell. Percy loved me._

Despite all the commotion that had gone on that night, those thoughts were the only thing occupying Monty’s brain. Well, those, and the indescribable feeling of Percy’s lips on his. Finally. _Finally._

However, as Percy led him into the foyer of the castle, he was unfortunately torn away from his enlightened state. His body tensed when he saw Adam sitting in a chair, his hands and feet bound. He was surrounded by a group of grisly looking men.

“We heard the shots and caught him trying to run off after,” Scipio spoke up.  

Percy frowned as he stared at Adam, and Adam’s eyes went wide when he looked over at Monty.

“No, it’s not possible!”

Monty folded his arms across his chest. “Believe it or not, it’s quite possible.”

“Are you the prince?”

Monty directed his attention back to Scipio, dropping his arms back to his sides.

“I am, but I’d rather you call me Monty.”

“Monty, Percy promised us a reward in exchange for protection.”

“Yes, I understand. I undoubtedly owe my life to you. You are free to take anything you wish.”

“There’s one thing we inquire,” Scipio told him. “We’re in need of a ship, but we are short in funds.”

“You can have whatever you wish,” Monty repeated. “I am positive that anything in this castle is worth enough to sell. In fact, I believe I know of something which would give you access to all the money you could ever desire.”

He then stepped forward, approaching Adam and crouching down so they were face to face. “Hello again, darling. I believe you have something of mine.” He then reached over to where the mirror was protruding out of the pocket of his jacket and pulled it free. Monty stood and handed it over to Scipio. “I’m sure the going rate for a magic mirror is sufficient enough to suit your needs, yes?”

Scipio’s eyes went wide as he took the mirror into his hands. “Yes, I believe it would be.”

“But my offer still stands: you may have anything else you desire.”

Monty stood close by Percy’s side as he watched Scipio and his crew walk out the door, bags of gold and jewelry in tow, along with a still-bound Adam. Monty wasn’t sure exactly what the future held for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. After all, the bastard had tried— and momentarily succeeded in— killing him.

Once they were finally alone, Monty turned back to face Percy. He looked into his eyes, and knew that for the first time, Percy was looking back at him and _seeing_ him. What a glorious feeling it was.

“Thank you.”

Percy looked at him curiously. “For what?”

“For saving my life; for loving me even when I was unlovable. You always looked past the bad in me and helped me see that I was good, that I was deserving of something as wonderful as you.”  

A heartfelt smile was sent his direction. His heart fluttered softly in his chest.

“Monty, I will always be here for you, even in your darkest days, to remind you of that.”

Monty lifted up one of Percy’s hands, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. “And I, for you.”   

 

They spent the next seven days wrapped up together, Percy never leaving Monty’s side— not that Monty would ever complain. He was finally able to hold Percy in his arms and not be afflicted with the knowledge that holding him was all he could do. He was now free to show his love for Percy any way he desired, which came to mean hours spent in bed, holding him close as they lazily kissed and let the day slip by.

During that week it was decided, due to Percy’s urgings, that it would be best for Monty to finally re-emerge in the world as a new man. Percy also believed the ideal way to do so was a party where all the villagers were welcome.

So, on the tenth day after Monty had been freed from the curse, he found himself sitting in the bath tucked between Percy’s legs as they soaked in the warmth together, suppressing his nerves for the party which would occur later that evening.  

Percy was spending the time mindlessly playing with Monty’s curls in between placing soft kisses to his neck and cheek; each touch sent shivers down his body. Oh how easily Monty melted into them, for it had been so long since he had been embraced so gently by another. Despair and depression were emotions no longer a presence in his life; the void which had vacated his soul was now overflowing with Percy’s love.

“Love, if I tell you something will you promise not to laugh at me?” Monty asked softly.

“I can’t promise that, but tell me anyways.”

“Being with you finally has me understanding Romeo and Juliet, why they would do anything to be together.”

“That’s not a love story, Monty,” Percy reminded him before pressing another kiss to the back of his head. “And we’ve no reason for killing ourselves.”

“No, but the way in which they speak to each other… how poetic it is.”

“So you understand poetry now? Is that what you’re saying?”

Monty blushed and shrugged. “I suppose. I mean, I’ve never given much attention to that particular genre, but now—”

“Now you do.”

“It couldn’t be that hard, though.”

“Hmm?”

“Writing one. A poem, I mean.”

“I’ve never given it much thought, really.”

Monty turned his head to look up at Percy. “I bet I could write one for you. Right now.”

He felt Percy’s chest move with laughter. “Okay, Shakespeare. Let me hear it.”

Monty pursed his lips in thought before he began to speak. “There once was a fellow named Percy, whose beauty showed no mercy. He was the most wonderful man around; I’m so glad that I have found… him.” He frowned upon hearing his mistake. The only response was soft laughter from behind him.

“That was a wonderful try, love.”

Monty huffed at that. “Well I highly doubt you could do any better. Coming up with rhymes on the spot is actually rather difficult.”

Percy shrugged. “Perhaps it is, but I do think it’s only fair you give me a chance.”

Monty gave a dismissive wave with his hand. “Go ahead.”

There was a few moments of silence before:

“Once upon a time I stumbled into your life, and upon our first meeting there was nothing but strife. Barely even friends, as the days grew cold, there occurred a change between us— like stories written in tales of old. And while there once was a fellow named Monty of whom I was rather unsure of, I look at you now knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’re my true love.”

There was a slight smirk on Percy’s face as Monty frown deepened. “Show off.”

Percy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Monty’s downturned lips. “Smile, darling. You know I hate it when you frown.”

Monty flashed a phony smile up at Percy, his dimple protruding deep into his cheek.

“Beautiful,” Percy whispered. Monty’s cheeks reddened up as he turned his head to face forward again, resting it back against Percy’s shoulder.  

“What if something goes wrong tonight?” Monty asked, breaking the quiet that had fallen between them.  

“Nothing’s going to go wrong, love,” Percy assured him, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Monty’s lips.  

“I always manage to mess things up.”

“Well… yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to tonight. I’m going to be there with you. I won’t ever leave your side.”

“When do you ever leave my side?” Monty teased.

Percy laughed and Monty felt arms wrap around his waist as he was pulled so his back was flush against Percy’s chest.

“I can’t help it. It’s not my fault that I am so ridiculously in love with you.”

Monty felt his cheeks heat up more as a pair of soft lips pressed against his pink skin. He silently prayed to the universe that Percy’s love for kissing him would never dwindle. After being deprived of another’s touch for so long, each press of the lips against his skin felt like an oasis in a wasteland.

“Must we go tonight? I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“It’s your party, Monty. Besides, there’s going to be somebody there who I’d like you to meet.”

“Your friend?”

“Yes.” There was an unfamiliarity to the tone in which Percy replied, but the way Percy’s lips were leaving a trail from his cheek down his neck made it impossible for Monty to dwell on it.

 

Once again a maestro sat at the grand piano, filling the ballroom with his musical splendor as villagers milled about, awestruck at their surroundings. After the curse had broken, it was as if the castle repaired itself back to its former glory. Any remnants of disarray were not to be found, and the castle was filled with color and life once more.

While the atmosphere was similar to the night from ten years ago, Monty felt as if nothing were the same— as if the party had happened sometime in another life where an alternate version of his soul lived through it. Everything in the castle had a different meaning to him now, all thanks the man standing beside him.

Monty glanced at Percy as they stood right outside the door to the ballroom, not yet wanting to make their entrance.

“Have I ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?” Monty asked.

Percy was donning a light blue suit with silver accents along the hem, his hair tied back at the base of his neck. He watched as Percy blushed and glanced shyly at the floor. An overwhelming surge of love coursed through him at the sight; his heart thundered loudly in his chest. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you would cause nothing but trouble for my heart.”

At that, Percy looked up at him. “Trouble?”

“In the best way, darling, I assure you.” He was met with a soft smile as he then reached out his hand. “Shall we go?”

* * *

 

The room was alight with chatter which ceased the moment the door opened, revealing Monty and himself. Percy swore the only sound to be heard was his own heart beating rapidly in his chest. He tightened his grip on Monty’s hand as he followed him into the room. Having been used to eyes following him wherever he walked, the gazes they were receiving was nothing out of the ordinary, yet it still left an unnerving feeling in the pit of his stomach.

They stopped in the center of the room.

“Good evening,” Monty greeted loudly, his smooth voice echoing off the walls. “I’d like to thank each and every one of you for your attendance tonight. I am aware of the Montagues’ history with parties, but I can assure you this will be an instance in which history does not repeat itself.”

His joke fell flat as the few villagers who understood the reference simply glared in his direction. Percy assumed they were wary, with good reason, but had been too curious about the happenings within the castle to pass up the invitation tonight. Instead, they would spend the evening with one eye on the door for an easy escape.  

There was a beat of silence before Monty spoke up again. “Alright then. Carry on.”

Once the music started up and the dancing resumed, Percy felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Felicity!” he greeted cheerily, dropping his hand from Monty’s so he could wrap her up in a hug.  

“Shit, Percy, you really weren’t lying,” she whispered as she hugged him, her eyes darting over his shoulder to glance at Monty. When Percy released her from the hug, she moved to stand in front of Monty, eyeing him up cautiously. “Hello, again.”

“Hello, Felicity. I’ve heard so much about you, but may I begin by saying I’d like to formally apologize for my past behavior. Although I know that no amount of apologies could ever begin to make up for what I did,” Monty replied earnestly.

“You’re a smart man.”

“Felicity,” Percy warned, “be nice, please?”

“Just because he’s my brother…”

Percy coughed awkwardly as Monty’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“Felicity, who told you that?” Percy asked.

“You’re not as quiet as you assume you are.”

“You heard your mother and I?”

“It was as if you two were discussing it over my head.”

Monty looked at him in confusion. “Percy, what’s going on?”

Percy sighed at that. He had not meant for this information to come out in such a blunt manner. “When Felicity was three years old, her parents were on the run. They dropped her off at a house in my village, and they were never heard from again.”

“Okay?”

“This was the same night you were cursed.”

Percy watched as his words sank in. He could physically see the confusion on Monty’s face transform into a look of utter shock mixed with slight disbelief.

Percy turned to Felicity. “How did you know?”

“I’m rather smart, Percy. Plus, it’s not hard to put the pieces together.”

“And you just… accepted it?” Percy asked incredulously. Felicity had never been one to just jump into strange ideas and accept them for truth with no logical reasoning to support it.

Felicity shrugged. “I’m not going to lie, I was skeptical about everything— including you.” She pointed at Monty. “But seeing you as, well, you, made me realize that if it was true about a magical curse, then why would it be so hard to believe that you’re my brother?”

“You’re my sister,” Monty whispered. He looked her over as if he was studying her.  

“By blood, yes, but I will tell you right now that I am _not_ a princess, and I’ve no desire to be one.”

“You don’t have to be,” Percy assured her.

“I don’t want any royal expectations of me,” she continued, and Percy could hear in her voice that a part of her was nervous, understandably, of course. “I especially don’t want the grief that will come if people discover who I am, and I don’t want to leave the village.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Percy promised. “You can still be just Felicity. Except now you have a brother and another place to call home if you’d like, right?” He looked up to Monty who was still studying Felicity. His eyes then flashed over to Percy before he looked to Felicity and nodded.

“Yes, of course. You’re free to come anytime you’d wish. Consider it your home now, too.”

She nodded slowly, and Percy could see that some of the nervousness in her eyes had disappeared. A good sign.

“Is it okay if I head back, though?” she asked Percy. “I’ve been trying to figure out for days why one of my inventions has been malfunctioning, and I think I’m a only few trials away from a breakthrough.”

Percy laughed softly and nodded. This was just like Felicity: her inventions always placing first priority in her mind. He understood that going back to tinker away was how she managed her nerves. It allowed her the time to think everything over and let all this new information truly sink in. Bringing about change in the technical world was her way of relaxing.

Percy gave her one last hug and watched as she spared a quick glance to Monty before heading off. Once she was out of sight, he heard Monty let out a deep breath.

“That’s my sister.”

“She’s a handful,” Percy informed him. “But she’s incredible.”

“She’s alive, and so grown up.” There was an unsettled look on Monty’s face, one that appeared as if Monty was mere moments away from a panic attack. Percy took his hand and gently led him away from the party. As the guests seemed too busy nosing about the castle, he was certain their presence would not be missed.   

Their journey ended as they exited the castle, allowing for Monty to breathe in some fresh air. The weather was brisk, but not as frigid as it had been the night the spell broke. Still, Percy found himself shivering as he watched Monty stare blankly out into the night.

“I missed so much,” he finally whispered, turning to look at Percy. “And the worst part is, I’m not sure if I would have appreciated having her in my life if the curse hadn’t happened.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Percy assured him as he pulled Monty in for a hug. The warmth radiating from his body only made Percy hold him closer. “It’s going to be okay now. I know she seemed a tad off putting but I know her, and she just needs time to process everything. It won’t be long before she comes around, I know it.”

It was minutes before Monty slowly pulled away from the hug, but Percy would have held him all night if that’s what he desired.

“Are you alright?” Percy asked.

Monty nodded.

They stayed silently by each other’s side for another few minutes, the only sound being the faint chirping of crickets, before Monty spoke up.

“I’ve, uh, been thinking about something lately,” he mumbled quietly.

“Oh?”

“The last time we stood here, you asked if we would have been friends if I had had you in my life back then.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember what I told you?”

Percy smiled and nodded. “You said we’d be the best of friends.”

Monty sucked in a sharp breath, his shoulders rising with the inhale as he looked at Percy nervously. “I lied.”

“What?”

“I don’t think we would’ve been friends, Percy. I know that we would have been so much more. And I know the list of things I’ve done wrong in my life is too long to count, but for once, I’d actually like to do the right thing.” He then took both of Percy’s hands in his own and looked deeply into his eyes. “Percy, I would very much love to court you.”

Percy’s lips turned up into a smile as he gently squeezed Monty’s hands. “Really?”

“You love me, right?” Monty asked, stepping closer. Percy felt his hand against his cheek, his thumb brushing softly against his skin.

“With all my heart.” He then closed his eyes and let himself melt into the touch of Monty’s lips.

Percy’s eyes slowly opened moments later when Monty ended their kiss all too soon. The ghost of his touch still lingered on his lips.

“So, is that a yes?”

“We already live together…”

“We can go back to living in separate wings,” Monty suggested.

Percy shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’ve grown far too attached to sleeping in your arms.”

“But would you feel as if I’m being dishonorable?”

“God no, Monty. I _want_ to continue living with you. Knowing that you will be there when I open my eyes— that is one of my greatest comforts. I love waking up to you.”

“So it’s a yes?” Monty repeated softly, a twinge of hope in his voice.  

“Well do you intend to marry me one day, Monty?”

Monty smiled at him, his hand still resting gently against Percy’s cheek. With his eyes piercing into his, Percy could no longer feel the cold of the night as the only thing existing in that moment was the two of them.

“That depends, darling.”

“On what?”

“Am I your happily ever after?”

Percy smiled warmly back at him before leaning over and pressing another quick, but tender, kiss to his lips.  

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this story! I appreciate each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart <3

**Author's Note:**

> It's amazing how a simple "Hey, what if?" question can turn into a "Hey, I'm going to write this" challenge  
> This fic will be inspired by Beauty and the Beast- not everything will be the same in an attempt to keep some originality


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